What is Mobile No.??

Time and Date: 10.10 pm IST on Friday, 28th of April, 2006
Location: Bandra, Mumbai

I was on my way back home and …

Lolz!! Look at you!! Are you expecting a suspense thriller ahead?… Don’t have such high hopes!! Read on…

“What is this life full of care ?
We have no time to stand and stare.”
-W.H. Davies.

How aptly said indeed! Don’t forget, this was said when the scientific wonder viz., “Mobile Phones” did not exist. But if he lived today, I bet, he would have definitely reframed his lines as,

“What is this life full of care?
What we do is, only stand and stare!”

SURPRISED!! Still wondering as to what I am trying to hint at?
Let me explain……..

Yesterday, on my way back home, I saw this lady in the train, who completely ignored her colleague and kept talking to someone on the other end of her cell phone. This reminded me of yet another incident. Few months back, I went to meet a long lost friend of mine. A walk in a nearby park seemed to be the perfect way to relive our past memories. It was a breezy day. We had just started off with our talks, when all of a sudden…… the ‘monster mobile’ rang, interrupting our confabulation. A while ago we were two friends sharing our past experiences amidst such beautiful environs, and the next moment I was straight away out of the conversation. I probably ‘appeared almost invisible’ to my very dear friend. There I was STANDING & STARING! Hehe…

The thing that amazed me all the more then was that I wasn’t the only one suffering from such cellular atrocities! In that park I could see many others glued to their cell phones who walked past by us with just a blank stare, not even bothering to smile or at least say a gentle ‘hello’. Isn’t it funny that the very thing which ought to enrich communication is instead hampering it?

Friendship of consequences has become a thing of the past. (I’m contradicting one of my previous articles… But didn’t I mention before… that I’m a confused soul since birth!!) All we do these days is ‘stare’, unable to strike a friendly conversation with acquaintances because of an electronic gadget which is supposed to make communication easier! In fact, mobile mania has struck so hard that nowadays every Tom, Dick and Harry has one! As a matter of fact, even while traveling by trains you are not permitted to enter into a friendly chat with the person sitting next to you for he is ‘busy’ messaging unnecessarily or perhaps trying to get back his childhood by playing some dumb games on his cell phone! There again all you can do is …….STARE!

Emerson said,

“By trying to understand through
the medium of science, Nature;
as God has made it, we will
be creating miracles of our own!”

Yes, definitely ‘Mobile Communication’ is one such miracle we have always looked forward to; which brings you closer to the absent. But now it makes the people sitting just next to you feel absent!

By now you must be thinking that I am a sheer Luddite! But NO. I too own a cell phone!
I too cling on to it sometimes (or mebbe most of the times) and make my friends feel miserable (non-intentional you see!) I too appreciate the genuine purpose of mobiles but the unintended consequences surely make me cringe! It’s high time that we put up some techno-restrictions i.e. we have to observe some ‘Decent Mobile Mannerisms’, say;
--> No messaging unnecessarily, especially when you can turn over and say ‘Hi’ to someone.
--> Not to sideline friends for receiving calls unless really important.

I’ll be happier if you can add a few more to this list. (Hey all you friends out there… Don’t look at me like that… I promise I’ll try my best to follow them myself too!) All I’m trying to say is that, it’s no use showing off or being a techno-wiz; for it’s widening the gap between people.

I understand it’s a MOBILE AGE. Why should we be an exception? So, go mobile!
But, how?

All we need to do is, increase mobility in relationships, friendships and don’t give in to falsity. I bet there’s no other easier way to lead a happier life!!

Just as John Bunyan says—
“Here little and hereafter bliss
is best from age to age.”

- Ships

Dancing Damsels

Well… It’s time again for penning down something… It wasn’t like; there was nothing to write about last week… rather there were too many things to write about… My haircut that went haywire… My calls that finally got converted… My purse that was happily stolen… My sleeping hours that were drastically cut short… My meal that was finally returning to normal! Lolz… However, barring the ‘my’ life happenings, one substantial thing that happened which had large stakeholders was… the re-opening of all dance bars!! The adjoining caricature is drawn by one of my good friends and was published in Loksatta last week… It is significant not just because it is done by one of my buddies… It is so because; I’m always awed by the fact that, how a tint of humour in social satire can be the most visible and widely disseminative form of general awareness.

Last Sunday I was watching The Big fight on NDTV, wherein prominent personalities were debating on the pros and cons of this decision about unbolting the doors of the dance bars here. What caught my attention was how easily people get away with lame reasons… One of the gentle men out there even went up to suggesting that, men go to these dance bars, because their wives can’t entertain them… So, it is indeed the onus upon the ladies at home, to don garish ghagras, put up gaudy make-up and entertain their Gods! It couldn’t get more ridiculous than this!! (I could barely imagine myself doing that!! Holy crap!)

First of all, I don’t understand why in the first place is there such a hue and cry over this issue? In a country like ours, we’ve got many problems to take care of… The amount of money spent on such endless debates could be better utilized for other purposes. Dance bars are no new things… Our rich culture exhibits the existence of mujra-mahals and rangashaalas since time immemorial. So, all of a sudden pointing fingers at people doesn’t make sense. Just as you see in the cartoon, alcohol has become the man’s lame-stick… he’s not even bothered about his growing handicap… All he can see is the entry to Heaven’s door viz, the Dance Bar! Men, who though aren’t physically blind, but have mental blocks, would get drawn to such falsity. So, it’s basically all up to the person to realize what is good or bad for him. Let him decide for himself. Let’s not play agony uncles and aunts. After all, we have much better things to do!!

-Ships.

UNVOICED

My dizzy eyes twinkle; my lips purse a smile,
As you just entered my thoughts for a while…

Dulcet memories flash back as I think of you
Our meeting, our friendship.... all seem so true
How I thought I knew myself for sure
Until sometime back our friendship was pure.

Years of holding together
What happened to the way it used to be?
I never inferred your place in my life
I held on long pretending not to see.

Existence faded into unversed confession
Day metamorphosed into night
It might’ve been my life’s toughest lesson
Good ol’ memories disappear from sight.

I reminisce how it used to be
When we shared our fears and delight
You are a treasured friend to me
Wish I could make things right…

-Ships

Commemorating 50 days of Bird-Flu!!

February 19, 2006: A day which every ardent non-vegetarian food bhakt would want to forget.
Today is April 11, 2006: So, that marks the successful completion of 50 days of the atrocious Bird Flu hoo-hah!! Yippee… Golden Jubilee!!

Its horrendous repercussion is still live and running across every house-hold in Maharashtra. Ladies and gentleman, let us hear a loud round of applause for the great warrior viz. BirdFlu, which has made its existence felt all across the nation in such short span of time, and impoverished thousands of poor souls like me of their biggest charm and only appeal in food-life viz. The saporous Chicken!
[Caution for all those who are trying to count the actual number of days: Please don’t count the exact number of days now… This post is written by an engineer… So, you should know that I had Mathematics only for the first five semesters, which was almost eons ago… So, you see a little deviation from the actual value is a forgivable offence! ;) ]

Ever since this hue and cry over bird-flu started, I felt deprived of the all pleasances of this entire world. From being a person for whom feasting out meant a whole list of chicken specialties, to being a stringent orderer of vegetarian food (which also included checking out if the restaurant was a 'pure-veg' one…) Phew… the metamorphosis a.k.a transition was incredible!!

For once, I actually considered doing my MS in the US of A, and gave it serious thoughts… leastways; I could devour my delicious chicken delicacies out there without fearing mom! But shelling out a humungous 10+ lakhs as tuition fees, for ambrosia, didn’t seem a sound option! (Aaakhir Yeh Dil Hain Hindustaani… we should pay due respect to our miserly mentalities!! Save money!! Find out easier and cheaper ways!!) Since, there’s no way that you can convince your mom about how immune you are to the H5N1 virus, one easy way includes, frolicking out with friends and gobbling down the much-longed-for-chicken-n-egg-finenesses, and later act like a innocent lady and claim you had mutter paneer, and dal tadka with friends… and to add some glamour, talk about the veg-crispy you ordered as the starter and how delicious it was… ;)

Ahem… Ahem…I marked my end to this hiatus from my dearie spelt 'my dear chicken' yesterday, courtesy Chicken Mc.Grill at McDonald’s… For all those chicken-hearted people (defined: chicken lovers but mom fearers!) like me, this whole bird-flu saga was indeed the most grueling experience of a lifetime… The sight of Chicken Mc.Grill at McDonald’s, the boundless insistence of my buddy, and the humane tendency of giving in, combined together, finally marked an end to this hiatus. Hurrah!

I have all the guts to write about it in this post as I’m confident that my mom won’t be reading my blog at least for the next few years… and even if she manages to do so, the news would have become stale and moldering by then!!

So friends, time for the moral of the story: Always listen to your mom, and... follow your heart! ;)

-Ships.

My Little Bundle of Joy

Yesterday, when I returned home, she kind of quetched… “Dids, you can write even about your college registrar in your blog… when will you write something about me?” Well… The very fact that she caught up with my recent posts proves that she’s finally finished with her end-terms and has all the time on earth to peak into my musings… Glee… So, this is for my dearest cutie-pie… Read on.

Sixteen years ago, a little bundle of joy entered my life… Yes, I’m talking about this sweet little gift that God gave me on a dry night in the hottest month of April. After a gruelling wait of seven long years, he bestowed happiness into our lives. I was finally one of the privileged lot – I too had a sibling! But wait a minute… was I happy then?? Not really…

Amazed? Let me explain why!

I was the only regnant devil of my house for seven longs years… When I saw my mommy’s tummy growing bigger with every passing day, I had asked my dad… (Caution: The excerpt below is retooled from the conversation we had almost sixteen point five years back… It might be tainted at places…)

Me: “What is mom suffering from?”
Dad: “She’s not suffering; she’s making room for your most coveted gift. It’s your sibling growing in her…”
Me: “But I don’t need one… I won’t share my room… Not even my toys...” (And made faces)

Dad: “If it’s a baby boy, you can tie him Rakhi and he’ll give you lotsa gifts. If it’s a baby girl, she’ll help you out with your Barbie house…”
…

Well… I gave it a thought, the idea of getting lotsa gifts from a bro seemed convincing enough. But I already hated to see my mom all ballooned up for the debutante devil. All set, and done… It was the D-day. (Info: My mom was highly diabetic then, and her pregnancy had always been at her own risk.) I preferred to stay in the confines of our brand new Maruti-800 with our driver bhaiyya RajTilak…(for all you Accord and Accent owners, I’d asseverate… it was then the most luxurious car!!) As I listened to “Hawa hawa e-hawa khusboo udaa de…” , my dad came screaming downstairs. I waited to hear from him about the rakhi-return-gifter I was waiting for, but instead he rushed straight into the OT with me, and told me to wake my mom up… (She was unconscious… and I thought she was sleeping!). Not understanding the gravity of the situation, I told her to wake up immediately, as I was bored of listening to the same cassette ‘n’ number of times. She finally opened her eyes.

Now, let me throw some light on the whereabouts of the tardiest entrant. It seems, the new-born was born with a great do-not-disturb attitude. And to my sheer disappointment it was a baby-sis. She didn’t bother to cry when she took her first breath in this whole new world. I guess she found it too middle-class to cry and announce her grand entry. Rather, she preferred it the other way round. She wanted to be the cynosure of all attention! With doctors and nurses running helter-skelter to ensure she’s fine and kicking, she finally succumbed and did away with her ego and… squealed! The nurse brought her near my mom’s bed… Everyone was overwhelmed… except ME..

Reasons:
-> My entire castle of ideas of asking for exotic gifts from a bro had just shattered.
-> Mom was put to another week of bed-rest which meant I needed to behave like a grown-up girl for a few more days… Phew.
-> She was fairer than me :( and to top it all she was Fat. Well, she was a healthy ten point five pounds record-holder baby of the nursing home till date. It’s another story that you won’t believe even a bit of this if you see her now! She’s grown up to be one of those slim-n-trim college rose-queen damsels ;)

Well… These were just few of the reasons. There were many more in the list of a seven-year old pampered little girl a.k.a. me. Hundreds of guests visiting our place, and gifting the new-born with thousands of gifts. And as if this wasn’t all… they’d say she’s so fair and good-looking. I was fuming with jealousy!! (It’s a girlie trait after all.. be it a seven-year old kid-girl or a seventy-year old hag… women can’t stand comparisons!). In fact, I don’t remember much, but mom says, I once sat on top of that month-old tiny tot out of anger. Also, I tortured my daddy with thousands of cockamamie questions asking him for clarifications as to why did he get those 10 dresses for her and only 1 for me (of course, as a kid only the count mattered!) This entire hullabaloo, mebbe, since I’m born on human-right’s day, demonstrating for my rights is an inborn trait!

Well… All said and done... Today, as we girls watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S. together in the cozy comfort of my room, I look back at those times and feel, I was so foolish! My sweet little damoiselle never complained. It was from her that I learnt to be patient, savvy and compassionate. Because of her, I learnt the joy of sharing, the happiness of having someone to count upon. I love every time she calls me ‘Dids’ (pronounced 'DEEDS'). The sense of belonging, the respect, the love, the care, that she’s chipped in from her end has indeed made my life all the more enjoyable.

Love U Baby.

-Ships.

FROM EXECRABLE TO LAUDABLE...

Abominable, execrable, egregious, reprehensible, obstinate, obdurate, testy, techy, yokelish … the lists goes on… These were few of the words from GRE Word List that we managed to rote, thanks to the gibing qualities that our redoubtable registrar possessed! (Point to note: He was officially the registrar much later than he actually thought he was…) Every damn attestation and all multitudinous signatures on the worthless forms needed HIS signature. (Note again: We address the Almighty Lord with a capital ‘H’… Note my all Capitals for our great registrar… Hold on… It isn’t out of respect! It just signifies the amount of frustration, built up over the years against HIM!)

Well… just to give you a picture of HIS… He was a 50+ man with grayish-white hair, on the verge of being completely bald, donned a formal (?) shirt which was never tucked in, and always moved with a bunch of papers to-and fro from his cabin to the principal’s room… Students queued up in front of HIS cabin, and the kind of devilish smile which HE gave, every time HE entered HIS cabin, sure won HIM a lot of subdued swearings … All of us wanted HIM to sit on HIS chair and start off with HIS invaluable (to be precise… ‘worthless’) autographs on our forms. Well, but the wait was never so short… How would HIS ego get satisfied if HE didn’t keep poor students waiting for long hours? Oh... how HE loved throwing papers on students’ faces whenever he got irritated. How much HE enjoyed putting poor students on a grueling wait… a wait which started with a couple of hours, and extended well beyond days and months! And what were we waiting for? A little signature which looked like ants having a feast!

In the course of so many years, you would hardly ever find a student who hadn’t faced the atrocities of facing the registrar! I still remember my first day in college, when I had to get some formalities done, which included attestation… I was new to the system. HE was not officially the registrar then. Not knowing how things worked in my new college, I headed directly to the actual registrar’s office, who wasn’t there at his desk. Later someone told me that in order to get things done, you had to go to HIM… and there I was waiting outside HIS cabin. And guess how HE welcomed me? … with a cold stare, as if I’d caused great disrespect to him by approaching the registrar prior to approaching HIM!

That day marked the beginning of my laborious journey for the next four years in college. I feared every attestation and every form which needed HIS signature! Well… The same was the case with most of my friends. One never knew when HE would be out of HIS mind, and might just shower you with some egregious curt words. In a year or two, HE was promoted to HIS most coveted post of the Registrar… and our already sunk faces sank all the more! Well, with the passage of time, we learnt to keep a straight face and endured the agonizing torture, as there was no way out.

I completed my graduation, and started my new lease of life, where I didn’t have to encounter HIM every now and then. But lo’ here again after about half a year, I learnt that I needed my rank certificates from college. I had to gather courage to face the torture yet again… As is the case with any office, your work never gets done on time. So I had to get the certificates verified first. That would take two days. And after that was done, started the long wait to get the most sought-after autograph.

Last Friday, I left my office at 11 a.m. for fetching HIS sign, saying I would be back in an hour or so. Wasn’t I being too optimistic! Well, all set, I reached the college office, and then began the harrowing wait one more time! HE looked at me. And this time, very courteously said, ‘Madam, would you mind waiting in for some time… I’ve got to finish of with some important work.’ Well… As if I had any choice, I smiled back and waited in HIS cabin. As I waited for HIM, memories flashed by. How HE insulted the students, HIS damned attitude. Everything… Well… HE entered the cabin momentarily. I was relieved, that my worked would get done any moment now… but lady luck never favoured me in this case! Three people from the staff entered the cabin with flowers and best wishes cards and from their conversation I realised, it was his last working day!!! Phew… wasn’t I happy?

Well… NO… I don’t know. I was suddenly sad that a hard working person like him was bidding adieu to his workplace of thirty-three long years. Oh how he must be feeling? Now, again as I waited I went back to the days when he made us wait long hours. Suddenly I realised, it wasn’t any fault of his. (Look at how I have stopped using all capitals for him… after all he too is a human…) He worked day in and out. He had never taken a casual leave in the past thirty three years of his work life. (Is that realistic?) Well… he’s proved that it is indeed possible. Then I saw him talking and comforting a girl who hadn’t filled up her KT exam form and it was the last day.(this time around he looked like an angel to my eyes… amazing na!). He was running helter-skelter writing required letters and doing all formalities to ensure that she doesn’t loose her semester. That’s when I realised that he didn’t make us wait for nothing over the past few years. And about the irritated and frustrated look that he carried on his face always, I’d say it's humane… Toil, travail and trudge throughout, and get paid nuts. What else do you expect out of that man?

Well… He got back into his cabin and this time, signed all my eight rank certificates. Yes, and this time I did not mind waiting for my turn. Today, he appeared like a father figure, a gentleman, and a real hardworking man… an epitome of perseverance. And for once I thanked him from the bottom of my heart and wished him all the luck for whatever he does in his future years. I was about to leave his cabin, when I turned back and asked him, “Sir, could I click a photo of yours?” (Well… yet again a modern day gadget proved useful in seizing a lifetime moment…) He obliged and smiled for the photograph. And that was smile of a Satisfied man, a smile which is so rare, so precious.

This reminds me of these lines from The Village Blacksmith.

“His brow is wet with honest sweat,

He earns whate'er he can,

And looks the whole world in the face,

For he owes not any man..”

-Ships