Footwork

Yawn! Did you sleep well? Well I did, but I bet our neighbors had a sound sleep being close to the Air Conditioner last night. Although, it doesn’t matter now since we have the whole day of stepping to do. The floor feels so cold after the warmth of the bed and like that was not enough, we got wet! But after all these years the things we have been subjected to, we are literally a part of his life and we carry such a huge weight, again literally!

No, No, No, No, not those same socks again! We refuse! Just because we don’t have any sense of smell doesn’t mean we are void of feelings. Whom are we kidding though? It’s not like he is going to listen to us. Or did he just guess?? because thank God, he found a fresh pair. And now, here comes darkness over our lives for the next 12 hours or sometimes more; no thanks to his partying habits directly after work!

Stop wriggling, will you? I can’t lay flat with you fidgeting. And from the confinement I am in, the only highlight for me is the melodious sound of our kind from outside. The years of experience has honed my skills so much, I can tell a child from an old man to a lady and the lady in high heels. The orchestra of skids, taps, squeaks, thumps, clip clops, clacks transfers me to this non-existent melodious world of music until such time when I scream out Ouch!  Ouch!  Ouch! Ouch! Some confounded idiot with his head in the clouds oblivious to his surroundings steps on me and walks off! His weight almost killing me, leaving the shoe fuming for taking away its shine!

The cacophony of angry engines, clatter of cycles, voices over voices, sweat, din, and dust replaces the harmony as the clustered street gets ready to devour. You wouldn’t think politics is of any interest to us. But, I will tell you otherwise. For, politics is the reason I believe, which amongst other things offer us this ill-trodden road to walk upon.  Failure is the stepping stones to success is an idiom you moron! You don’t have to take it literally and leave the road strewn with stones. Success would be a far cry; before that you will land up with sore feet in a hospital nearby. But seriously, pity our woes and mend the streets as soon as possible.

Well some respite now at least for the next 9 hours. As he gets busy with his work, I indulge in some severe day dreaming. Far from the hell we endure daily, is a lush green field I desire to walk on with nothing so much as a cloth, suede, leather or canvas in between. The dew filled blades of grass, the pristine rays of the Sun, the nature’s abundance makes the ground beneath me a paradise! Pretty soon, the day dreaming ceases as we get ready for another chapter of turmoil.

I wonder if he has ever heard the sound of relief in unison as soon as we are given our freedom from the stinking and suffocating covers. We are happy we can breathe again, see each other again and relax a while before we are put to the grind again. We are the simple 10 who just requests to be kept clean and happy and in return we shall carry your burden. For the readers guessing still, I am your loyal feet!

Far from the rush...into the crowd

It needs no second telling that one should always be prepared for Delhi’s traffic and plan your commute accordingly. I too planned and that’s about it. Giving in to my laziness, my plan remained only a 4 letter word and had it not been for my friend I would not have realized the time. I had to catch a train at 2 pm and I was still dilly dallying with a glass of coke and a cigarette where I had just about an hour and a half to reach the station battling the traffic on the way! 

My friend’s excellent maneuvering in his Chevy in the forever traffic of Delhi saw me at the station with barely a few minutes to spare for the train to embark. Now, this is perhaps a general expectation of guys out there to desire for an “interesting” (connote as you may) co-passenger especially in a long journey and I am no exception to that. But as always, got disappointed when I took a glance at my co-passengers with whom I am stuck with unintentionally for the next 20 hours. All males and wearing grumpy faces with a look that says “you may try to kick off a conversation but I am sure as hell not interested”. Perhaps, they too were in some way disappointed like me! 

My train reached the destination ONLY 8 hours late. We all can do away with the redundant discussion of how the Indian Railway’s non-existent time schedule works. I am happy that I am home. Eating and sleeping beside the mundane chores kept me busy in the 1st week. Then there was some occasional driving around in batches with my nephews, my folks, my brother. Shopping was justified with the whopping bill I raked. My brother helped – adding to the bill. 

During the festival, it’s customary for people to throng in crowds to have a glimpse at the gorgeously crafted pandals (temporary structures to showcase the idols) and the creatively sculpted idols. One thing I tell you, driving around in this maddening crowd is well…. Maddening! Maybe being an Indian has inculcated this feeling of comfort even in a crowd that you tend to actually enjoy watching the live slideshow of people all dressed in their perhaps best attires. The ladies in particular must have given attention to every detail in the process of decking up and causing the clock to sweat its brow in patience. The result – sheer attraction for some and blatant repulsion from others! No offence but makeup overdone is such a turnoff! 

Rest of my days at home was spent in rigorous calisthenics in the form of some front lawn cricket and football with my brother and nephews. Truth be told, it was only for 1 day. The muscle aches were a reminder good enough not to indulge more in these activities, for I am here to rest and not tire myself out!


Having flirted enough with my sugar levels with the continuous gulping of roshogollas, lal mohons, khir kodoms and the likes, I decided to pause, no not to stop as you might have presumed. The social formalities, meeting the neighbors (after some painful persuasion from my folks), the gastronomical delights from my Mom’s kitchen etc came to a halt. Finally, the 2 week long vacation comes to an end and leaves me with a bittersweet feeling. As much as I would have loved to enjoy some more time in the laps of comfort and luxury, I also had to get back into the corporate grind where I think I belong. I will not stop cribbing and complaining about the stagnant traffic, crowded metros, scorching summer, ignorant people etc. but being bred to it for so long these are all a part of me and in an eerie way they were missed when I was away on my vacation. 

But being the travel enthusiast I proclaim to be with a conscious effort of not sounding pompous, I am here at my office, resuming work post vacation and already planning my next trip.

Book Review - A Walk In The Woods by Bill Bryson

One should not judge a book by its cover. However, literally speaking, you can certainly anticipate a good read when the author starts off as I come from Des Moines. Someone had to. Bill Bryson did just that and his A Walk in the Woods was indeed a good read. For someone who is outdoorsy, this book would just add fuel to your passion if trekking and hiking are the kind of hobbies you pet. But, the book would hopelessly fail to be categorized as a standard travelogue because its much more than that. The Sunday Times wouldn’t go throwing away their well amassed reputation by quoting Bryson’s “A Walk in the Woods” as a seriously funny book because it is a seriously funny book! 

For a space constraint summary, this book could be just about Bryson’s walk through the Appalachian Trail which is the longest continuous footpath in the world stretching approximately 2200 miles on the East Coast of United States from Georgia to Maine. But, such a summary will not be able to justify Bryson’s experiences with the perils inhabiting the wilderness, the arresting beauty of the nature, the challenges from an irrational hike-companion, the economic affordability, the unpredictable weather, the unreliable map, the amusing fellow hikers on the trail and much more which has been captured in the book.  

A Walk in the Woods would definitely pass as a guide for things to pack and do’s and do not’s in a trail. It educated me amongst much other learnings, the difference between thru hikers and section hikers. But, what separates the book from a mere travelogue is the regular dose of accurately timed humor. It is almost as if the author would realize the monotony of some essentially elongated description and catch the reader off guard with a sudden shot of wit. 

And to the few who perpetually loves to dig deep into the matter to extract some kind of invaluable lesson, Bryson has catered to them as well. A lifetime ambition to not die outdoors tethered by his undeterred psychological and physical endurance amidst frequent impediments encountered in the trail packs a message they can carry back home from this read. 

I was yet to see the last 50 odd pages of the book but just couldn’t help distracting myself to some extensive search online and ending up cajoling and coercing my friends to accompany me for a hike early next year hopefully in the foothills of the Himalayas. Clearly, I was adventurously inspired by Bryson. But what one takes from the book is - to each his own!

Rendezvous

Writing from the Capital, I am lost in reminiscence. A week has gone by since I was introduced to her and I feel something amiss now. Almost as if I forgot and left something with her. So here, I attempt to retrace my steps to find an answer.

The call from her was inkling for quite some time now and I had to answer it. After some careful considerations, calculations and planning I decided on a date and set out to finally meet her. The fact that I started out early to see her soon did not go well with my destiny but I wasn’t the one to give up. The long arduous way cursed with the scorching sun was all a part of nature’s elaborate plan to discourage me. I noticed, like me there were a lot of other people too who was in a rush to meet her. What seemed like a few hours eventually felt like an eternity. At this point, I am perhaps exaggerating quoting the phrase “what does not kill you makes you stronger” but the situation was no less demanding. Undeterred, I went on.

Evening dawned. With the sun calling it a day, dark clouds took over the sky. A pitter patter of sorts brought a smile upon my face. I love this weather and this makes it just perfect to stage my rendezvous with her. The more I closed in, I could feel her presence. Just then, almost theatrical, to mark this union, the sky cracked open and it started to rain. I adjusted my vision through the big drops to see what was in front of me. Just the way I had expected, it was magical when I was welcomed by her with open arms. She gave me the feeling like I was lost all this while and has now found my way back home. The warmth of her reception was unparallel and I did not hesitate to surrender myself to her charm.

The rain decided to linger for some more time either in forms of a drizzle or a momentary heavy downpour. I wasn’t the one to complain. I was thoroughly enjoying her company. She made me connect with the nature, the same I had a tiff with earlier on my way. She showed me to a scanty little forest upon a hill cart road but the size of the forest did not matter. It was simply rejuvenating to inhale that air where all my persisting troubles and anxieties abandoned me and I choose to relax and unwind in her lap.

She must have heard my hunger growls and opened the doors to her delectable specialty. All thanks to her, I have never tasted such delicious kebabs in my life. To top it, there was adequate variety and quantity of beverages to accentuate the overall experience. I overshot my appetite and quenched more than my thirst. Combined with the perpetual precipitation I sank into a stupor and before I knew it I was lost in her love.

She also provided me the opportunity to meet some very beautiful people with such compassionate personalities. Their hospitality makes me strangely guilty because I could not give them anything in return to meet the standard of care rendered by them. My respect for them boosted and my love for her grew even stronger.

But all this was like a dream, only short-lived. I had to come back to Delhi and tune myself to the plastic life again while all along yearn only to go back in to her arms.

With her, I received more than I gave and left more than I brought back with me. Yes, I came back. I had to leave her and come back but with a promise that I will lose my way again into the quaint and tantalizingly beautiful “Bareilly”.

Perdidi Identitatis

This is not the first time
I have witnessed this feeling before
When I feel the pressure mounting
I am a quarry to my own soul

Perdidi Identitatis

When you are surrounded by obstacles galore
Which to choose and what to ignore?
When you are programmed only to please others
And no one gives a damn about you anymore!

Perdidi Identitatis

Every stone unturned, every battle fought
Compromises made, truce called
Defeated, upset, exhausted and sore
This is not what I had sought

Perdidi Identitatis

Clichéd for me is “Rise after a Fall”
I have lost all will and have no desire
To break away from all, is what I now aspire
I am waiting for that final call

Perdidi Identitatis

Revisited my answers; done with the questions
In solitude I seek the bliss; so it doesn’t matter if..

Perdidi Identitatis

The Birth Of A Broker

“Which counter do I go to now?” It takes him forever to respond and he gives you this crafty look which would imply that his highness is not to be bothered again with the same query or with any query for that matter! The sweltering heat of the summer in a tropical climate belting out 30-35 degree Celsius toppled with humidity rates of 80-90% makes it very difficult to keep your calm when certain situations demand otherwise. Frequent power cuts is nothing new in India but lack of power back up (generators/inverters) in a Government office that too in an Urban city questions the “development” in a “developing” country. However I am not discussing this here, although it is in every way associated with I have to share.

In the last 2 weeks, this is my 4th trip to the District Transport Office (DTO) for a job that should have taken nothing more than 2 trips in all. My use of the word ”trip” is justified because I have to drive 20Kms (not to mention the hazardous, ill maintained, pothole infected stretch of the so called road)each way to get this job done and eventually waste my entire day hankering after documents, signatures, seals, payments & the ostentatious attitude etc. The bank had issued an “upto 3 months valid” No-due certificate thereby stating that my dad’s car was no longer under their hypothecation. Now the DTO had to issue a new Registration Certificate (RC) waiving off the Hypothecation factor. To save dad from this well-anticipated multiple episodes of persecution, I took up this responsibility and hence my tryst with a Government body.

Your efficiency and loyalty to your job is proven by your service; even a kid would understand & acknowledge that. The person who does the same mundane work day in & day out should by now out of his experience tell you at the first glance that what all paperwork/documents are missing from the submission dossier which besides saving valuable time, could have also saved me from the harassment of climbing the stairs 3 times just to get my dossier correct. My frustration & his ignorance blended with the rising heat wave, the perspiration & the wastage of time pushed my calmness to a chemical outbreak like what is often experienced with Archie in his Chemistry lab. “Could you please tell me once & for all which all documents are required in the submission dossier?” Full marks to the sharpness of the employee who immediately noticed the sarcasm & sudden pitch shift in my voice but failed to be duly complimented by me because of his retort. “Don’t talk to me like that; I don’t like the tone of your voice; even I can talk like that….”To stop him from extending his pompous speech, I had to beg his pardon and oblige to his ways! And as a reprimand for provoking him, I was called after 2 days for the next step in this unfathomable saga to procure the RC. By the way, if you have hung around in government offices before, you would know better than to question the procrastination!

Gloomy weather, drenched in rain & sweat, here I am once again, after 2 days and totally oblivious to today’s turn of events! I am handed over a document which I had filled in with the required details the other day. I noticed, the only things new in that paper were 2 authoritative signatures which perhaps in governmental protocol requires 2 days hence justifying the procrastination; very busy official or a very difficult signature! Anyways, in the midst of public’s disregard for the queue & official’s disregard for the public, I somehow got to the next point; a dusty room filled with thousands of records in paper folders where the person-in-charge would seek and hunt out our file with the aid of some numbers. “Come back after half an hour”. When you are already compelled to devote your entire day to the mercy of a government office, a half an hour delay to search the file is very much negligible. I was instigated to ask him about the kind of backup they had in case this section catches fire which wouldn’t take more than 5 minutes to wipe out all the records but I recalled my previous rendezvous 2 days before and kept mum. Once our folder was found, they pinned our old RC into it and sent the folder back to its hiding. I was given a receipt and asked to come after 2 days. It must have racked the brains of thousands of people before me about the gravity or the magnitude of significance of the reiterated “come after 2days”; did it involve some intensive mind boggling mathematics, some statistical analysis, some physics deductions or some chemical formulation, one would never know! 

My 3rd trip was marked by the brisk pace at which that day’s agenda was being met. With the receipt I had in hand, I had to pay a meager amount and apply for the Smart Cardtm RC (a hard plastic card replacing the conventional laminated ones). I was handed another receipt, and was asked to go another window. Compared to the previous visits, today it required me to approach more counters, more up & down the stairs but I marveled at the rate of which the work was getting done and was really looking forward to receiving the RC today. My hopes were crushed by my ignorance to notice the tiny subscript in the bottom of the receipt at hand which was pointed out with such exuberant volunteering by the counter operator which puts me to think that do they actually take some sadistic pleasure out of people’s miseries. The subscript read “The Smart Card will be issued after 4 days from the date of payment for the same”. I had to take another trip! 

4 days later, I am close to beaming with joy at the thought of the end to this misadventure and the hope of holding the new RC. I enter the office building, marched right up to the window (all the previous trips taught me better than to ask someone for directions) and gave them my receipt. The counter operator was wearing a cap and his colleague had his head phone on, another listening to songs from her mobile phone, and another yapping away to glory. I paused to mull, about the scenario if these people were to be working under a private firm, their date of joining and date of relieving will be separated by not more than a week. “Server problem” He says it with a momentous sympathetic face and almost immediately gets busy chatting with his colleague about some serious national issue concerning their next lunch break. I wait and I wait and I wait dotted with innumerable enquires to the counter every 10-15 minutes. “Is the Server up & running?” And every time I got a reply in the negative. I had to leave for Delhi next day early morning and I was so looking forward to getting this errand done for my dad but now I guess I will have to pass on the baton to him to pursue this task by himself. So, when the wait became longer, I had to leave. Although 1 person from behind the counter showed some empathy and told me that he doubts the Server problem will be fixed today and suggested I come tomorrow. “Technology giveth & Technology taketh”. In this case, it took away my voice to yell at them since the problem with the Server was not their responsibility. I decided to head back home.

In this memorable encounter with a government office cost me close to 1500 rupees including fuel, petty payments, refreshments etc. But primarily, nothing resulted from all the trips and efforts to compensate the valuable time I had wasted here. When I take back 2 steps and try to view the large canvas of this experience, my thoughts and eyes juxtapose upon a batch of people sitting on the stairs in the main entrance to the office. I have seen these people in my previous visits too. They are, as I correctly understood Brokers/Agents of the DTO office. Not official employees but agents who could get your work done in less than half the time it would devour from you. All this can be obtained for a nominal fee. So it is up to you to uphold your integrity, endure the annoyance, expenditure, repeated visits and its futility or simply pay 1000-1500 to the agent and get the work done in no time minus your harassment. It takes no Einstein’s mind to understand that the agents and the employees work in a nexus to extract maximum remuneration from a person for a work which requires no money at all. Raising a voice or to keep tolerating has been a debatable topic ever since and perhaps will be so forever.

Apurba Das

(07.06.2010)

Unfamiliar Emotions

On her father’s birthday when everyone gathered to cut the cake, she slid away to her room oblivious to everyone else. But I noticed this and was in fact apprehending this for some time now. I followed her to the room, sat beside her and saw her sniffling. I held her hand and then I paused. It was a long pause. I have brought myself to a state where I can either repeat rhetoric condolences and sympathy or instigate her to breakdown. 

I wonder at the inexhaustive & infinite stock of feelings and the subsequent expressions experienced in life. Your growth is directly proportional to the level and variety of outlook you garner. Just when you think you have experienced it all, there springs a time which demands a completely unknown yet appropriate reciprocation of your feelings to a particular predicament.

It has been 6 months since her father had passed away. He was in his mid-sixties and his unexpected demise caught everyone in shock & trepidation. During his lifetime, I had the opportunity to interact with him 2-3 times only. From my limited rendezvous with him and the collected episodes of his interaction with his family & friends, I could easily draw that he was deeply soaked in a life-sized personality, the principal perpetrator of the infectious laughter, a voracious reader, an avid adventurer and carried with him a jovial weather wherever he went. To illustrate him any further is beyond me and will not be justifiable since I had exchanged very few dialogues with him from our scanty brush ups.

She has inherited almost all of her father’s traits and carries an equally cheerful attitude. Full of life and fervor she often regrets not pursuing a career in planning parties/celebrations. I personally think she would have excelled beyond par. When a person living in joie de vivre, is subjected to such a tragedy, the consequence cannot be predicted. She drank her emotions and absorbed the sympathies of the people who asked her to be strong and to hide her tears. But now all this was tearing her apart inside and she wanted to let it out.

Today on her father’s birthday, close friends have been invited for lunch. The hostesses & the guests did their best to surrender themselves to the occasion and to keep the inevitable inkling of reminiscence at the minimum.

What I learnt here is that you cannot generalize grief because no consolation is common. I didn’t know how or what to say at that time. It seemed like I erased all my thoughts, forgot all my adjectives, lost my voice and emotions drew a blank! I did not feel the remorse as it demanded in this case. It’s not that I am a robot but how could I bring myself to the bereavement of the person whom I had so few interactions with. Moreover, I have not lost a father and therefore I think I would be insulting the situation if I am to say “I can understand how you must be feeling”. I was struggling to say something but in vain. My hands got embarrassed from my obtuseness and it withdrew from hers. I just hope she ignored my stupidity. Once she got up and refreshed herself I realized that instant how I just experienced a totally different emotional scenario and couldn’t reciprocate accordingly.

“Life is a mystery” gave birth to a new dimension for me. There are things, emotions per say which is beyond our understanding until the time comes when you experience them on your own. 

I pray his family finds it in their heart to overcome the misery and accept life as it is.

And I pray he RIP.

Being Independent

If we are to go by the non-scientific explanation of evolution, I, like many others often pause to marvel at the addition of an integral part to the human body conceptualized, designed and manufactured by GOD. This part in question might not be physically visible to the eye but is predominant over everything else in the body and to a large extent upon the things surrounding us. I was merely trying to introduce the “Mind” aspect of the human body that has a reputation of either setting us free or tying us in a self-suffocating knot. The mind has, is and will always maintain the stronghold of any decision which also accentuates its versatility. Of the many ways our mind manipulates us, I make an attempt to highlight one such influence.

Certain words from the lap of the dictionary were familiarized and catapulted to regular use by political juxtapositions. The revolutions of the past and the agitation of the present more than often propagate two common expressions viz. Freedom & Independence. Of them two, I pick Independence and request a more generalized outlook towards it.

When a more domestic approach is taken towards Independence, I would have to argue that its expression is in fact about its non-existence. Perhaps the person who coined this word would agree with me too. No matter how much we debate about its practice, an honest introspection would end up enlightening us about its vagueness. The race for a secured and comfortable future has rendered ourselves such that with every mechanical step forward we squish Independence beyond any resurfacing opportunity. There would also be the social obligations which further pillage the very essence out of the word. If we can ever instigate the audacity to corner our mind and interrogate its primal instinct, I am sure we would get an answer much to our awe which would either put our mind to frenzy or sprout a resistance to such frivolous, unexpected & unwanted reflections of the true self.

My revelation & reasons may also be branded profane but that would not change anything. If you take a break from the mundane & artificial entertainment of action, thriller, drama or horror, it would give you some food for thought if you were to catch the masterpiece of a movie “Into the Wild” portraying the life and eventual death of Christopher McCandless. Keeping apart his reasons for the abandonment of synthetic life & his unfortunate incident with a poisonous wild berry causing his death, one has to agree that his guts did manage to trigger off or at least produce a faint explosion in our minds about a tiny possibility of repeating his brave feat.

We did shy away from it or have successfully fought it back just like myself who took shelter in writing about it rather than venturing Into the Wild and experiencing Independence like its meant to be.