Man on the aisle

What is it about old men and college? I often seem to come across old-men who are talking fondly among themselves about college. I guess, college days are the best days in a man's life (man, as in mankind). It's sad that they get to know that only when they are that old. I knew it when I was in college and never made much out of it. Also, I think my days working as a consultant are as good as well, if not more. May be I am the indifferent kind.

Now, I was in this 2X2 aircraft on my way back to my hometown...if you travel in sectors that have your tickets loudly announce to you - "NOTE: This flight is not a jet.", you will probably know that the aisle in those crafts are big enough only for two size-zero air hostesses to walk alongside. A fat man is an embarrassment to the aisle and the airline alike, on that small plane. So, here I was, staring at co-passengers in the economy cabin of the same jet (oops, non-jet!) that carried a happily chubby old uncle seated somewhere in the rear (lets call him, uncle at the rear seat or UR). My mind started anticipating a story being spun out when the old uncle moved conspicuously towards another old uncle seated in the front row (lets call him, uncle at the front seat or UF).

Firstly, it was quite a spectacle watching the UR struggle his way through the congested aisle to the front. All passengers on aisle seats, almost automatically, drew their elbows in! (When it comes to dangers that are more visible, passengers don't need to be told over and again - "Please switch off you mobile phone at this moment".). Well, the uncle kept moving forward with the co-operation of all present countrymen that Subash Chandra Bose never saw in his lifetime...and then suddenly, UR found himself stuck between two food-trolleys (or whatever you call them) which entered one from each side of the cabin. Momentarily, all eyes stared in unison at the UR and then the air hostesses, taking turns at looking them both. Pregnant pause followed. Then one of the stewardess asked uncle to get into one of the seats so that she can move the trolley forward for him to carry on with his long-walk-to-freedom. The most probable target-aisle-passengers instantly pretended they were sleeping including I. Nonetheless, UR smashed a young man's foot trying to fit in between him and the seat-back before him. Poor guy!

By this time, of course, all passengers were waiting with bated breath to find out where UR wants to go (given that there was no toilet/washroom towards the front of the non-jet.) UR let open the secret by placing a tough hand at UF's sturdy shoulders jolting him out of sleep. Like Devanand, UR tilted his head and smiled at UF. Like all of us Indians, UF was programmed to smile back without delay. But I could tell that UF had no clue who UR was! I am sure he must be praying it is not some hijacker planning to make him the hostage. To make the situation further embarrassing, UR asked in a coarse voice - "Pehchaana, hain?" (roughly translates to: Did you recognize me, huh?).

UF( With "I'm-a-bit-lost" written large on his face): "Ha ha, arre saab kya haal hai?" (Howz u, Mister?)
UR (Without budging an inch): "Pehchaana ki nahi?" (did you recognize me or not?)
UF (Smiling too much, suddenly): "Haan, Haan, kaise nahi.." (Sure, how can I not?)
UR (Putting UF in a sticky situation now): "Bata kaun hun?" (So tell me, who am I?)
UF (Staring blankly as if the answer will appear with the snacks the stewardess was serving): " he he.."
UR (Interrupting UF's weird laughter): "Ashok..yaad aaya?" (I'm ashok, rings a bell, doesn't it?)
UF (Shouting loud.. almost got up): "arrrrree Ashok, kya baat hai, kahan ho aaj kal?" then softly adds, "Pehchaan gaya tha main, naam muh pur nahi aa raha tha.." (Apparently, UF had recognized UR already only that the name-server of his brain didn't help.)

And then, the entire crew and crowd knew it that UR and UF were from the same college. Some of curious passengers then retired to sleep, as if they had reached the fag end of a thriller with the suspense out in the open now. But for me, the story continued. They talked in one sentence about how good the college was...another couple of sentences about good college days. Then UR asked UF about where Shobha was these days and UF answered Shobha had gotten married and settled in Jaipur. I obviously thought Shobha was UF's relation (daughter,sister, may be wife). Then UR asked about another lady and then another...UF and UR were talking about girls from their college! They never mentioned a single male-fellow. It must be a co-incidence. From the looks of the two of them, it must have been a 100 years ago that they left college but they named some 6-7 girls from those days and also from the city-college! Of course, UF remembered each girl's name and whereabouts, as if he was 'single-handedly' running the yellow-pages business. But, obviously, he couldn't recall UR's name :)

Then UR was approached by the stewardess reluctantly, to ask him where can she serve him snacks...I thought to myself, what's some petty snacks as against great conversations about girls in college. To my surprise, old uncles have their priorities very clear, he slightly waved his hand to UF and asked the lady to serve him at his seat. Everyone was party to the developments and hence they all gave way for UR's retreat, making an extra inch available on the aisle. Arrgh, these non-jets, there's hardly any space ;)

Soccer with Sixth-graders (And, conversations in their world)

I was out on the playground to play cricket with a bunch of adults when an aggressive team of six-graders came along and asked us if they too could join in. Some of my team-mates who call the shots (not me, when it comes to cricket for sure) relented. A pair of siblings with a football, as we call it, caught my attention. I asked them if they would teach me soccer (obviously giving them some reasons why they should and how good I am already at other games.)

This is what one of the sixth-graders had to say -"I can try but only if you learn fast will I continue." F*%& off, I would have said to anybody else but that was a kid so I replied innocently, "If you teach well enough, I will learn fast enough." The bunch of others giggled. They found it amusing. They found ME amusing. As usual, that's my story! The game started and my li'l coach was impressed with my progress. The turn of events was that which made it all so funny. Sixth graders today are other-worldly, I discovered.

Have you ever played with kids old enough to talk about you like this, "We need to have Aneesh this side, because Shilpa is a girl, she can't play, of course." ? I snapped back saying, "C'mon boys, is it really about girls/boys?". But then I stopped thinking there's no use now. Nonetheless, I was the tallest among them all when we started the game. They put me as a goalie. And guess what, I did really well. They graduated me to "passing the ball", mind you, strictly passing it back to the one who gave it to me. I proved I am good at that too.

We finally had a taller guy come in to join us. The guys who called the shots (no, not me..even this time around!) thought we are good to start in teams for a game. I was compensated by a stronger player in my team, the tall guy. He was a ninth grader. "She's a girl, yar", they said. My team obviously was scoring better. They all gave me high-fives whenever I saved a goal and also shouted in unison, "Great save!"...I obviously have never felt better before!

Later my li'l team member Vishal told me that I play well. My coach was obviously off by then since his mom had called him in. Actually, Aneesh and vishal were siblings. Suddenly, they were both laughing and teasing a new guy. I asked them what the matter was. The younger one, Vishal, told me that the guy they are teasing is a 50:50. I let out a big WHAT. "Oh yeah, he is. Lemme show you", said he and ran off to call the poor boy. He comes back with the boy and whispers in my ear, "Shilpa, just check the way he walks and talks." I was introduced to a whole new world, obviously. I sat both of them down. I asked this guy what his name was. He was Siddharth. I asked him what was he playing today, he said nothing really. The other boys giggled. I told them there is nothing like 50:50 and they should not trouble the poor boy anymore. Before Vishal could say anything, Siddharth said, "That's fine, I don't really mind". "What????", I thought to myself, "Am I still talking to people who are younger than I!". Looks like these things don't bother the kids! Even then, I told them nobody's giving Siddharth any shit anymore. For once, they just stared. Then the game resumed.

This time my team allowed me to go ahead and take a kick to the other goal. I did one. Everyone clapped in consolation.I generally asked one of the boys where he was from. I obviously meant the building/floor but he replied thoughtfully, "You could say, I'm from Punjab." Ah, this "you-could-say" style in a kids-world is new to me!

"And how could I say that, if I were to".

"Cuz, I'm from Jalandhar."

"Oh, I've been to Jalandhar."

I asked the siblings where were they from. "London" they replied in unison. "Oh, I've been there too", I told them. "It was good", the older one said thoughtfully. May be that was a question, now that I think about it. On that note, Vishal decided I was good enough to be extended an invitation to. He told me I could play with them on the weekdays.

"Thanks", I said, "I'm not too sure if I'll be back from work when you play, though".

"Which floor do you stay at?" I told them which one.

"Oh, may be if you are finished working you could peep out of your balcony and join in if we are still playing. We always play on this ground."

"Oh good. I will check."

"We gotto go now", Aneesh the older one said.

(A sixth grader and a fourth grader "need to push off" now. What can be so urgent in their lives, I thought to myself.)

"Why? We can play another 30 minutes", Vishal kind of whined.

"Tuition starts at 6. It's 5:45 now. We gotto get ready", Aneesh replied too calmly for an older bro.

"What do we need to get ready for?", Vishal argued.

I interrupted them at this point. Told them to leave if they had to. They left and walked a few yards and then Vishal came running back to me. He very conspicuously told me, "There's a broken window at the back of the building you can get in from. It's the shorter way. Watch me." and ran behind his brother.

I watched them both jump into the building from a broken window twice the height of each. Crazy about silly things- these kids, I thought to myself. I had nothing to do next, the cricket team wouldn't take me in so I decided to go back. Walked around the building. Walked back around to get to the back, jumped in through the broken window. Believe me, it's as much fun as it would have been when I was a sixth grader!

Never-mind

They'll kill, they'll slaughter,
They won't listen as you cry,
They won't stop as it dies,
Never-mind, keep crying for it,
Keep moving them one brick at a time,
Going's tough, but believe me, one day it'll all be fine.

They'll not love, they won't let you,
They'll not stop treading on the dead,
They'll keep turning the rivers red,
Never-mind, keep wading through all night,
Keep healing them, one wound at a time,
There may be wars tomorrow, but mankind will be fine.

They'll trade children, they'll steal organs,
They won't stop selling their own li'l souls,
They won't stop lending the ten-year-olds,
Never-mind, keep working to rescue the birds,
Keep freeing them, a tiny one at a time,
They'll still have brothels everywhere, but the children will be fine.

Business As Usual

Despite the violence in Mumbai on the whole North Indian-Marathi row, Mumbai seems to have recovered in a day's time. The city is much like Foghorn Leghorn itself. When Foghorn is bombed by the chicken hawk, all he loses are some feathers. The very next minute he's found putting on the new feather jacket and carries on with it's business as usual.

After the violence in Mumbai, I hear that the city is back to its characteristic normalcy. The traffic jams are back, the dabba-wallahs are working relentlessly again, the malls are alive with the same old buzz and Mumbaikars are eagerly booking tickets for the upcoming release Jodha-Akbar! Thanks to the resilience that is otherwise a thing of the late-night cartoon show called Ed, Edd and Eddie. When a 22000 pounds boulder falls on their car, Ed just buries his head in the engine and beats the shit out the insides of the car with a hammer and bang, it's back in shape in a jiffy!

A man died caught in this violence in Nashik. Raj Thackrey is apologetic about it. Reportedly because, Shiv Sena has announced financial security for the deceased man's family. They are all very kind and charismatic leaders. Now, forgive me for the monotony in my tone but that sure looks like one of the usual battles between Sylvester and Tweety. Except that in this case, some random Winnie the Pooh dies in the scuffle! But otherwise, it's business as usual. The last rites of the dead man have been performed. The TV media gave it's report on the grief-stricken family. The press talked about it a li'l bit on the second page. They are now showing how Rakhi Sawant hit her boyfriend on camera this V-day. Happy hours are back I guess.

We all owe St. Valentine a prayer each. In this worldly madness, at least he gave mankind a reason to celebrate love, this one day of the 365 (approx.) in a year. Though, it may not be so pertinent to you that he didn't really mean to. (Apparently, there is no evidence that St. Valentine had anything to do with being "the patron of love"). Nonetheless, it happened. What's significantly spicy is that now we have a Valentine's Day. What makes it spicier is that we also have Shiv Sena and (the bonus with it,) the MNS. But certainly, the only thing that makes it spiciest is that our nation is gifted with Rakhi Sawant and her contemporary hard-hit beau, Abhishek!

For me, time is sitting alongside another Friday. Time to clock hours for the week, time to post another entry, as usual.

Anyway, the north Indians (whatever that means!) in Mumbai are back on the roads once again. And once again, its business as usual. May we remain like those cartoon characters forever!

Call it "Jel-a-peeno"!

A conversation among a bunch of gals from my college over dinner brought this issue out. Why the hell do they have a "j" there when you are supposed to NOT pronounce it? If you want it to be called ha-le-peeno, please spell it Halapeno and not Jalapeno! We ended this piece of conversation with the common nod on how much we hate "suckers" who check you on pronunciations. Boys, do not speak French, when you can do with English. By the way, Hindi is the best in that respect. Of course, you know better than checking some gal on her pronunciations.

But seriously, lets take it from the top, languages were made to ease communications between human beings. Scripts were developed to make that communication portable and preservable. Why have we ended up with languages which make life more difficult then? I know we follow some rules for every language, but surely we could have done without the silent 'P's in psychology, pseudo and pneumonia! What purpose do they solve? In a corporate transformation exercise, we usually eliminate non-value adding elements which consume time, money or energy. Then why do we deal with them here day in and day out? Kill the 'P', people. It's time we change a language that doesn't go down well with our language-sensory-neurons and still has to be used since it is part of our everyday existence. It's not as if we can't change. The Americans call "she-dyool", (schedule) "ske-dyool"...and much more! They don't much care about the acceptance of that by the rest of the world, I guess. Good attitude. Helps them get there.

And, French! Oh my goodness, my friend was getting all red in the face with fury talking about how difficult that stuff is. Purpose? I am not very well read in this regard, but my friend seemed to think they really don't need to make everything sound like it can't be written down. Also, everything written down, will definitely have something more to be read out than just what is written! Somebody has definitely goofed up somewhere (:P, I'm surely getting hate mails from all French afficionados now). Either you write what you pronounce, or you pronounce what you write. You can't have it complicated both ways, sire!

I was asked a tricky question by a classmate when we were trying hard to interpret a declamation speech, sitting in the last row of the school auditorium back in grade 8. I still make people solve the silly thing just to make a point. She wrote down "ghoti" on a piece of paper and asked me what can be a totally unlikely yet possible pronunciation for that word. I never waste brain power on futile questions. Presuming this was one, I quickly blurted "gho-tee". The conversation- I remember only very little of it - would have gone on these lines:

Her: "What if I say, it can be called 'fish'?"

I: "Whoa, but how?"
Her: "GHOTI: F for gh as in enouGH, I for o as in wOmen, SH for ti as in demoliTIon"
I: "hmm...shhh! The prefect is watching us."
I: (being the sucker I am for such things) "Arre, that thing was enough, women, demolition. Naa?"

Her: "yeah, that's why they say English is an impure language."
I: *Didn't register at all what she said later*

I must have thought who cares 'who' exactly says English is an impure language so long as I remember the answer to that puzzle, which is enough-women-demolition! I am such a nerd. (Can I tell myself, pun intended?). So, men and all others out there, remember enough-women-demolition AND stop it now! (Yippee...gotcha there!). All I mean is, change the way we speak/write and lets concoct some real Indian English now. See, with every 6th person on earth being an Indian, we're sure to get full support on this. If nothing works, we can put in a plan to organise a SMS voting global contest for the "Indian English usage" popularity and forward the money generated for Senator Clinton's presidential campaign....They'll agree for the money and we're sure to win all the votes in favour of the Indian English. How...? Look, if we can vote 'Taj Mahal' the first (in popularity) of the new wonders in the world, then we Indians sure have learnt the art of flooding the telecom networks if it comes to saving the pride of our nation!

Just What I Said

At the outset, let me make public, a fact which you'd know one day anyway. The title is not an original, like most bits of my humor, the title of this post - being absolutely humorless - is also borrowed. And, that doesn't imply I will return it. There are some things I can borrow without asking and keep them with me for good. Like the stapler pins from the client's work-place. And, like affection.

Why are you reading this? There is not going to be an ounce of value-add to you after you've finished reading this. That's not really a warning. As a friend, I like to be transparent about likely outcomes of deeds I do. Go on, anyway. With a little help from you, I will make sure we enjoy this entry. It's funny; they call it "posting new entries on your blog". Who's entering anywhere in this whole blogging business? But then I don't have a better word. On second thoughts, how about "posting a new note on your blog"? Naah...? They sure have done their research before naming stuff on the internet, huh?

See, I digress. Although I'm wondering if I really did - digress, that is - even when I weren't really making a point at all! Reminds me of a conversation I read shortly before it touched zero in Delhi, or before they claimed it did. The conversation goes like this:

"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.
"I don't much care where-" said Alice.
"Then it doesn't matter which way you go," said the Cat.
"-so long as I get SOMEWHERE," Alice added as an explanation.
"Oh, you're sure to do that," said the Cat, "if you only walk long enough."

So I think the point is taken, you'll get somewhere one day eventually. Even when you aren't really making an effort to get there like Rakhi Sawant does. (I respect her for her ability to carry-off all that she's been carrying off since long). I wonder if I need to work hard towards getting where I want to. Alright, I want to change that sentence. Retrying....I wonder if I need to think hard to getting where I want to. Oh yeah! unlike you, I know where is it I'm going to end-up. Doesn't make me a bit more wiser than you, does it? 'Coz, if you don't know where you want to end-up, you probably are at that place. Holy shit! and now you have a lifetime to get elsewhere. I like that!

But we're all trying very hard. We're in the rat race, right? The hilarious part is may be you'll win, may be you won't but at the end of the race you will be as much a rat. Borrowed, but twisted to fit in the context. Boy, how I play with words these days! See, I digress. So, I was saying that as a matter of fact we are all trying hard. *Idea!* I'll serve you an anecdote right in your platter now. About trying our best:

In a conversation with a colleague at work, she told me about funny times at school. Here's one. She was writing an english test. The question was to "read the following paragraph and give the best possible title you can". The paragraph was about an old farmer making a living by tilling barren land and going far off to the city to sell it all only to earn a few pennies. She said, she zeroed in on a title after thinking hard. "Ashoka The Great" - was her choice. She did the best she could to give the best title in the whole world, irrespective of what that paragraph had to say about the old farmer! Like this, we all make our lives funny at one point or the other.

I had a Chemistry teacher, who would ask a question to the class and spank that one person who answered too early. "Tum overtry karte ho...sun liya karo; Do not overtry." Frankly, I liked the word overtry. It says a lot about the existence of the limits of trying. Why is there a line at all...I think we can keep going on and on. Trying hard and harder. Like SRK does. That way, we will all end up with a six-pack and a self-proclaimed-superhit-blockbuster at our hands. Not bad, huh?

See, I digress. My Chemistry teacher is no more. I am sad that he died, reasonably young. I wanted to gift him a car. As a matter of fact, I wanted to gift all my teachers a car each. Unfortunately, I studied at different places and until I completed my masters; They are too many to count now. Besides, I don't make enough right now. I still wish I could. May be in future some time. Fortunately, there is Tata Nano now. But my Chemistry teacher wouldn't get one ever. And, we all keep trying so hard all our lives. Take a moment off and send a li'l gift to whoever you'd thought you wanted to give one to.

I know, you get these free advices all the time and way too much these days. So much so, that we call it spam, now (among other things that are certainly spam). But then I'm an Indian. If I know something wise, I will share it in form of good advice. And, if you are a true Indian, you will always appreciate that; its utility or significance notwithstanding.

Wait a minute, before I finish...I just noticed the big 'C' in my "Chemistry" s above. These things have a friggin' psycho interpretation, I tell you. May be I liked Chemistry. To be honest, I was good at it. May be, I could have been the Richard Feynman of Chemistry one day. I have the sense of humor, at least. In regards to Chemistry, may be I just didn't give it my best!

Don't be mad at me. If you are, just leave a comment. I always publish them all. I try my best to.

THE HEADLINES ON ORKUT

Without much ado, let me take you through some of the Orkut headlines people have. //My comments are in blue between forward-slashes.//

headline:changes every day..............headlines //Agreed dude that it changes everyday (unless of course it's about the ash-abhi wedding which DOESN'T change for seven days in a row!) but what does the series of dots followed by another mention of the word headlines mean?//

headline: They asked me for "headline".I told 'em "receding" //You think this is witty, huh? Go jump out the first floor window, you mean poor-joke-crackist-monster!//

headline: Headline??....what headline!?? //Yeah, I mean I won't blame this Orkuteer actually. What is the whole deal about having a headline in your profile anyway? Like what's the big news in your life today or something? How about "I've lost an expensive mobile, suffering from the hideous aftermaths of measles and my health insurance expired a day after I broke up with that rich brat!" What can be so extraordinary in one's life that one makes it a headline on a page that has almost negligible readership?//

headline: HEADLINE- no headline,but Stitches hain head pe ! //Kill-bill, u're soooo innocent. Do you know that this line doesn't make you one bit more desirable?//

headline: This is supposed to be a HEADLINE //Hey, in recognition of your exemplary work in making brainless-Indian-orkuteers understand what a headline looks like the National Council of Vella-gurus Management, India awards you with a free holiday package for this summer! It's two days three nights for 2 adults with 2 children to the city of sand-dunes, Jaiselmer! Have a sunny holiday, uncle.//

headline: tHE HeaDLinE Is dAt tHere iS nO hEaDliNe //C'mon man, This is not a red-star (read mandatory) field. If there is NO headline then do not add one unnecessarily. Free advice: please avoid populating garbage. Period. OK, I'm not that mean really. BTW, this headline comes from somebody who has a real headline (the name field) which says "I forgive but never forget"...Scary, huh? THE BAD GUY WILL GET KILLED EVENTUALLY! Ha ha//

headline: No Headline is the best headline... //Dude, nobody's asking you for the best headline. Man, you are a real perfectionist, haina? If there's a headline you may write on orkut it has to be the best or else - you naughty-naughty amir-khan-replica (For the uninitiated - Amir Khan is supposed to be a wannabe perfectionist!) - you would write something else instead of the headline there. Isn't it? I would really like to hear this guy out on his opinion on "no headline" and it's interpretation. If no headline is best, why is there a headline in your profile at all, samurai?//

U NEED A HEADLINE HUH ILL GIVE U A HEADLINE ...//Maaro, Maaro!//

headline: Wht's a headline? Heard abt bottomlines. // Oh, so this noble soul is one of those over-educated, jargon-sucking-dumb-asses! S/he (It was a he, if I remember correctly) understands "bottom lines" right but not "headlines". Alright, care to explain whose "bottom line" is affected really with Bernanke's 75-basis-point cut on the Fed rate, Mr. Management Guru?//

headline: NO headlines Plz...as my whole life is a headline //Dudette, there's something called reality check in this world...Care for one? I have nothing against you personally but your headline reads like you think you're Princess Diana or something - "my whole life is a headline". Sweetie, you sound like you are really open-minded; so much so that your brains have fallen out long before you started making headlines.//

AND PEOPLE, HERE'S THE BEST ONE:

The headline is:

"My husband is a moratu paiyan beware before readin." //WHAT THE HELL DOES MORATU PAIYAN MEAN? I'm damned curious, and it's killing me! I even googled it. Didn't quite help, as you'd know if you try it hands-on yourself. My guess is the "Moratu Paiyan" people resemble software viruses which have the capability to harm you virtually if you read their spouse's profile..err..no? And also, I don't mean to be disrespectful but who the fuck hangs a "beware" warning about one's spouse...I mean, it's done for dogs I know for sure but lady, that's your husband and HE'S A HUMAN BEING for God's sake! :P//

AND, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE FUN DOESN'T END HERE. HERE IS WHAT MORATU PAIYAN MAN'S LADY-LOVE HAS ADDED IN OTHER ORKUT FIELDS:

in my bedroom you will find: Read the headline again //Read: Beware of the Dog. YES, it really reads like that!//

my idea of a perfect first date: Read the headline properly....//Read: Haven't you read the warning properly, you useless-wanderer-of-useless-SNSs! There's a dog on watch here!//

DISCLAIMER: The other day I read a mean post on a mean blog by a gal who sounded like a mean one herself. Admittedly, I was a bit disgusted. So, here's a bit of a clarification: Those comments on the sidelines were purely to push up the funny quotient. The reader may bear in his/her mind the fact that I'm not making fun of other homo-sapiens here. I think it is perfect to be nice to people, (that way you never have any fun in life :P) that way all troubles are at bay 24X7. Before you sue me for posting your headlines here, let me educate you on intellectual patenting norms and regulations for which you may have to leave you email address and e-learning charges of $2500 (Yes, you are right that's how much a Tata Nano will cost on-road, although there is no apparent connection between this fact and the context here except this that Tata Nano has something to do with my headline on Orkut!)

Have a great weekend, folks! Watch this blog for next on the Orkut series.