Traxx

In India, one of the most convenient emerging form of transport is the 'shared' auto or Tata Sumo. You need to pay anything from between Rs. 5 to Rs. 40 and go from minimum distance of 5 kms to 30 kms without having to shell out a hefty sum.

But then, like every thing else, it is a mixed bag. If you want roses, you will get thorns too. That was my failed attempt at similies...or whatever. Anyway, back to the point. 'Shared' auto.

So this one time, in the peak of summers, my sister was to go in a 'shared' Sumo with my father. This is her exact narration of what happened. They had been trying to get a conveyance for quite some time and had pretty much given up, leaving them with no resort but to travel by this 'Shared' Sumo. Now the actual capacity of a Sumo is, 2 in front (driver + pillion) , 3 right behind, in the seat parallel to the drivers (engineer's description), and 6 right at the back in the opposing bench kinda seats that open at the rear. So how many does that add up to? 11. You're good! :P

The drivers being the greedy lot that they are...want to squeeze out (literally), every penny from you. So they want to fill up the WHOLE vehicle until there is absolutely no space to breathe. They fill in 3 ppl in the front ( excluding the driver) , 5 ppl right behind and 8 in the opposing benches.

Another important thing that you need to know is that my father CANNOT tolerate heat and when it is as hot as 45 degrees, he definitely didn't want to be scrunched up in the back with lots of people. He therefore chose the most preferable seat, the front seat. And when he came to know that there are 2 more people who're going to sit in the front with him, he decided to wait outside till they were 'stuffed' in. 

Finally the time came and the Sumo was full. So, my father, very conveniently went and sat in the corner-most part of the front seat. There was just one problem. The door wouldn't close. Then he tried, unsuccessfully, to twist and turn in order to fit in, but to no avail. 

The driver, during this whole time, did nothing but watch him try and fail, smiling all the time. Then, when my father had given up, he went up to him and said,"Saab thoda haath andar karke baithiye". My father, exasperated by now, complied. And then, the driver, who very well knew how to make his gaadi work for him, went, "Bang" "Bang" "Bang" ...you know how we try to close our suitcases when they are stuffed to the brim, exactly like that, except he didn't sit on the door (mostly coz he couldn't). By the fifth Bang, the door closed, he locked it and the vehicle started to move, with a very dazed man sitting in the corner and a girl rolling with laughter at the back. :)

Pickles

This was way back when I was in school, standard 8th I guess. It was a Saturday, a holiday, some time in June when amazingly, instead of it being scorchingly hot, the sky was overcast and weather was pretty good. This was the day Mum had chosen to make mango pickle. So, after all the heavy breakfast et al, she set out on the chore. There were loads and loads of raw mangoes that she had sliced and we were now in the process of mixing up the masalas for the pickle. Well, I should correct this, it wasn't we really, it was her with us on with our non-stop twitter about what happened in school, how our friends did this and that and blah blah. The solemn picture of patience, she would keep nodding and 'hmmm'ing to all that we said while we would go on with our incessant chatter. While on with this we were somehow reminded of about 5-6 pictures remaining in the reel of our Yashica camera (yes yes we had real cameras in my childhood, not digital ones and you only got 36 pictures in a reel so you would have to be very careful about what you clicked, unlike now, when people click pictures of just having tea everyday)

I had this idea of clicking 'natural' pictures which I was strictly warned against by Mum with her Papa-will-not-like-this-at-all speech. Nonetheless, I went ahead and got the camera and started clicking pictures much to her annoyance coz she felt she was too shabby to be clicked (again, bear in mind that my mum comes from an era where clicking pictures was a very formal affair). Anyway, the pictures started, Mini was a sweetheart and started posing immediately, holding a slice of the raw mango in her hand and pretending to eat it. After some time, the child in my Mum came to and she too decided to play along. It was at this time that I managed to catch Mummy right when she chewed into a big slice of the mango. It must have been real sour coz her grimace lasted for more than a minute, plenty of time for me to click a picture of hers. Her expression was unmatchable. In fact, that picture remains to be the cutest picture of hers that I ever clicked. But anyway, she drove me around the house for having taken the picture, coz unlike now, if something goes on film, it stays on forever and she wanted to have a 'good' picture clicked. By now, we were on the very last picture of the reel so Mum said she would click me. I don't exactly know what happened but just as soon as I handed the camera to her, it got 'clicked' accidentally and we had a big hearty laugh about the whole thing.
Later, when the photos came out, it turned out that it was not Mum's picture, but mine that was the funniest of the lot. Coz while hers was just a cute lady chewing on a super khatta mango, mine was that of a villager caught unawares in the city wala expression. So much for 'natural' photography. :)

The Moment

Back after a long time...real long I know...an year I guess...or more than one...but well...my blog, my wish :) ... arrogance works dude.

For a change, this is something that really touched me. Made me realise what togetherness is all about, and what it means to be MFEO, the cheesy acronym for - Made For Each Other
So, without further ado, here goes...

My husband and I had one of my dad's old friends come over to visit us. It had been pending for quite some time now and well, it was real fun when they came. Over tea, we started talking about various things under the sun. Being close to sixty, Uncle tends to be a little absent-minded. He forgets people's names, places he went to, what happened at that time and things of the sort, but he never forgets his friends. He must have a million friends, the warm and lovely person that he is and so, whatever thing or place or event you talk about, he has a friend in it...or related to it...or a part of it. I have finally stopped getting all amazed about this whole affair, earlier it fazed me out. Really!
Aunty on the other hand is the mature one...she is one of the most cool mums that I've seen, very down-to-earth, easy-going and great to talk to. And man, have never seen any person as concerned as her. She remembers everthing about everyone all the time. Is a wonderful host even if u reach their place in the middle of the night, unannounced.
In a way, uncle and aunty compliment each other.

Here's how...
Us: We just went out looking for a car at XYZ Car Shop.
Uncle: XYZ car shop...XYZ car shop....rings a bell... (gives a questioning look to aunty)
Aunty: It's your friend's shop.
Uncle: Oh yes, oh yes...my friend's shop...he was with me in college...great guy...is an excellent speaker...Pradeep...Pradeep...(questioning look number 2)
Aunty: Sinha, Pradeep Sinha...whose daughter got married last year
Uncle: (satisfied and smiling happily...having remembered Pradeep) yea, great guy...ya, his shop. Tell me if you want to go there again, I'll go with you. Great guy that Pradeep.
Aunty: (to us) yes, the wedding was wonderful. the groom is very good too, works for ABC company...we've known the girl since childhood, she looked wonderful on that day.
Uncle: What was her name again?
Aunty: Kalpana
Uncle: -----lost in thought-----
Aunty gives me a wink.
Topic changes to weddings now...
Uncle: Recently we went to a wedding, in Chandigarh...in Jan...eh...when was the wedding?
Aunty: 12th Jan...it was Uncle's oldest friend from school, he is in the army...his son was getting married.
Uncle: Yes, yes...he is a colonel in the army...and his son...(looks at aunty in a help-me-out-here way)
Aunty: Virender
Uncle: has studied...(more help needed)
Aunty: Is an MBA
Uncle: who works in....
Aunty: Gurgaon
Uncle: in...
Aunty: WXEG company
Uncle: ----------smiling contently------
Aunty: -------smiling lovingly-------
Silence of a few seconds when they are looking into each other's eyes and suddenly they both burst out laughing.

Sigh...wish I have such camaraderie with my beau 30 years after our wedding. It is people like these who reinstate your belief in marriage, love, understanding and togetherness. And yes, they make it look like it is the most effortless thing ever.

Hats off to them!

Child Abuse!!

This incident is of the time when it was OK for parents to beat their children to discipline them. There was no human rights commission set up to "save" them from "injustice" or whatever it is called and very frankly, it always worked. Children can very often be very hard to handle and well, when it comes to trying one's patience, they sure excel in it. This was just one of those times...

At the time of this incident, I was in seventh standard and my sister was in third. The only thing she loved more than teddy bears was sleep. There was never a day when she didn't have to be nagged and pushed and pulled and threatened to wake up to go to school. She was always grumpy and behaved like she was doing a favor to all mankind by getting ready to go to school. It was my father's job to wake us up and see to it that we reach our bus stand well in time. And, hence, there were a lot of un-pleasantries shared between him and my sis. Everyday, he would start waking her up half an hour in advance, only to find that she woke up later by exactly a half hour than the scheduled time. And, then she would make up for the 'lost' sleep (due to my dad's nagging) in the loo, in the bath, and at every possible place on earth. This was her idea of getting back at my dad for waking her up. And obviously, we got late for the bus, there were times when we rushed up to it and got it in the nick of time and there were times we were way too late even to see it go. At all those times, my dad would have to take us in his scooter to the next closest bus stand where the bus came for a second trip...and he hated it sure as hell, because that got him late for work and my dad hates being rushed. He is a planner, he always charts out the plan well in advance and never waits till the last minute. The whole incident obviously upset him badly coz his day didn't start the way it was supposed to.



Coming back to our story, on that day, we didn't even see the bus go. And this was after having literally having to push my sister out of the house. For some reason, she had been extra obstinate and mean and took thrice (not twice but thrice) as much time to get ready as compared to usual. As a result, my dad was obviously extra angry, and well, when words fail you, the hands automatically start working. So my sister was in for a thrashing...and a bad one at that, since once my dad got angry, it took him quite long to rid himself of the anger...more importantly, when the object of his fury was right in front of him. At first, he started scolding her at which she very nonchalantly replied that had he not woken her up in the first place, all this could be avoided. This was much more than what my dad could handle and he started beating her up left and right. Looking at my dad hitting her so hard, my mum was terrified and tried hard to stop him but to no avail. Then she hit upon a brilliant idea, and said, why don't you let me beat her up, to which my dad gladly agreed, why, I fail to understand. But, you see, when you get someone else to do your job, you don't get satisfaction and that was exactly what happened with my dad. He started prodding my mum asking her to hit harder, "Aur maaro, aur maaro...abhi kuch nahi hua hai", and things to that effect. By the way, all this was happening at 6:30 in the morning, in a quite peaceful neighborhood. And my aunt had come over the previous day and was sound asleep in the bedroom till the moment she heard loud cries of my father.
She literally ran all the way to the living room half-scared and half-asleep and fully terrified and in between her huffing and puffing asked, "Kahan hai chor? Kahan hai chor?" (where's the thief?).
Turns out she thought we had caught a thief in the act in the wee hours of morning and were in the process of beating him up. It took her a good ten minutes to realize it was not a thief and only her dear old niece who was being punished.
Till this day, she narrates this incident to one and all and tells them what a temper my dad has. ;)

A game of Flush

It is customary to play flush (teen-patti) in most households in Diwali, I fail to know the reason behind this tradition, but then again, what the heck!, as long as everyone is enjoying it, who cares. It was the night of Diwali, and was way past bed-time, about half past midnight, we were all about to leave from my uncle's house (everyone was invited to their place for dinner), when my uncle came up with the plan of playing cards. There was a lot of indignation about the plan, with people citing reasons from being sleepy to tired to just not interested. But as has always been, my uncle always has his way and finally everyone agreed to play "one round" of the game, I have no idea whom we were fooling. Snacks were layed out (inspite of just getting done with food), a sheet was spread on the carpet, the uncle took out a brand new deck of cards one of which was distributed to each one of us to fix places for everyone, the one having the highest denomination being the one who stays in his place while the rest had to move and sit next to him, highest to lowest denomination of cards. My uncle got the biggest card in this case, the queen of hearts and so he stayed put. The rest of us started shuffling around depending upon the cards that we had, there was a lot of disagreement about who should sit where, how fat everyone had gotten, how unflexible we all had gotten, how sitting on the floor was a forgotten art, how in the 'good old days' people were never bothered by all these things, how the times have changed and everything had "modernized" (it is important to note that anytime anyone talks about modernization, it is always looked down up, specially when there are a lot of elders involved) and many more things to that effect. Eventually, we all settled down after much pushing and pulling and the game was set to begin. Let me add in here that we were about sixteen people, including my Uncle, who was the sole proprietor of the game. Each of our cards were returned to one of my cousins (Uncle's son) who was allotted the responsibility of distributing the cards. He started the tast with absolute finesse and began counting the cards, which unfortunately added up to 51 only. He counted them twice and could still not come up with the magic figure of 52. He was admonished and scolded for being so stupid as to having finished engineering and still not being able to count to 52 and then the cards were recounted by almost every other person who volunteered, only to see to their dismay that the cards were still 51. It was then that someone came with a brilliant idea of laying the cards out one at a time to check which one had gone missing. Imagine everyone's shock when that card happened to be the 'Queen of Hearts'. Everyone tried to remember who had gotten it and it was not long before it dawned on the people that it was Uncle who had gotten it. By then it was already half past one and everyone very angrily (only as much as they could get away with, with Uncle) asked Uncle to return the card. So he lifted his right hand, then his left, then shifted to the right and then back to the left...to not find the card anywhere, consequently, the people sitting next to him were asked to shift around, move, get up and dust their dresses to produce the coveted card. But the card, it seemed, had a plan of its own and had vanished into thin air. When all of us had almost lost our heads and couldn't figure out how a card which was very visible 5 mins ago could manage to disappear...Uncle opened his wallet...only to find, the "Queen of Hearts", lying safely inside.The rest, as they say, is history.

The 'pencil box' incident

A long time ago, I was in school. Sounds like really long ago, when I used to carry a big heavy school bag, a bottle and a lunch box. Life sure was fun then ! The biggest hassle would be if homework for the day had been completed and whether my best friend sat next to me during art class. This story is about my best friend of seventh standard...and her favourite pencil box.
It is rightly said that the more you love something, the brighter your chances are of losing it, or something to that effect. And Shweta was madly in love with her pencil box. If any of us would ask her why she carried such an old pencil box, she would hold it fondly in her hands, almost pet it and tell us how she had got it in the second standard and how it had stuck to her all these years. She always had a penchant for sturdy things, and this, at that time, was the sturdiest. It was shaped like a car, with a greyish bottom and a greenish top. And was very sleek too and did I mention? The apple of her eye, or whatever it is called when it is an inanimate object.
This would have been an all too good story had it not been for the bad guy, in this case, our Maths teacher, Prem Sir. Now Prem Sir was one of those strict and short-tempered teachers. The kind children shudder at the name of. And on the fateful day he was in one of his moods. As soon as he entered the class, one could hear a pin drop. Shweta, me and a guy called Kapil were seated together. Kapil was known for his notoriety, one of the 'shorties' in the class, but man, could he keep adults on their toes. He was hyperactive! He never ever fell short of energy, I personally believed he was always thinking of the next mischief he would commit while still in the middle of the first one. For some reason, on that day he was laughing...or rather guffawing...even when Prem Sir came right in.
In Kapil Prem Sir found the perfect stress buster. While we hadn't even seated, he came over to our seat and held Kapil by the ear. "What's so funny?" he asked. To which Kapil went down to a giggle from his laughing. "Tell me, what is it that you're laughing at?" , somehow Kapil found that hilarious and almost laughed out loud this time. I really don't know what Kapil is doing these days, but at that time I was sure he would go into the army, being such a hard shell, I was sure he would keep army secrets even when he was captured by the enemy. At that time though, it really dint help him much. Prem Sir looked left, right and center for something with which to bash up Kapil. All the students had very slyly kept all the thick Maths books inside their desks by now. The only thing that was out was, Shweta's favourite box. And well, rest is history.
Sir really banged Kapil hard with the box, in a vain effort to make him stop laughing which obviously didn't happen. What did happen was tears started trickling down Shweta's eyes, and fast. Had I not known better, I'd have thought she had a soft corner for Kapil. During the act, fragments of the box flew all over the classroom, the top of the box, half the bottom of it, the pens, the pencils, the eraser...everything. By the time Prem Sir was done, all that was left of the box was a half-a-choco-bar sized piece, which he looked at for a second, laughed and handed over to Shweta. I had never ever seen her so upset before. No wonder she took Biology in the 11th standard, she obviously dint want to lose another box to Prem Sir you see.

The Sari fiasco

This is a recent incident...or I'd rather say I shall never forget it. It is about the time when I was working and we had these 'behavioural' trainings that had to be completed in order to have a good appraisal. I have always wondered how effective these trainings really are...but anyway, this is not a discussion about that. This is about our faculty or trainer for our training on Assertiveness, or something on those lines. I have never been good at fancy names...but it did make me quite sure of myself for the next few days...and rather careful too...about dressing, if I may add. Though in a week's time the sure part wore off...but the other lesson lies embedded in my mind till this date and will always be.
"A safety pin is a woman's best friend."
Before I write any further, I would like to add that this is being written in good humour and...what the heck, I dont think the person involved will ever get to this article...I dont even remember her name now...though she was a helluva person. Not seen many ppl as dynamic and dedicated as her.
She was in her late forties, or early fifties...smart, intelligent and very very enthusiastic. Hers was one of the few trainings I didn't sleep through. She was outstanding ! About average height and more than average build, she was due to come to our class of 20 students at 10:00AM. But as luck would have it she was running late and managed to whoosh into the class at almost 10:30 apologising profusely about the delay and starting almost immediately with the classes without as much as gaining breath. She was smartly and tastefully dressed in a Bengali cotton sari (the ones with tiny checks on them) appropriately starched. Reading glasses on her head, joined by a chain so that they could be found in times of dire need, she really must have had a very high number, coz the glasses were as thick as window panes. A Titan watch, two gold rings and a chain in the neck were all the jewellery she wore and plain almost flat sandals to facilitate her running around while teaching. The moment she entered the class, she exuded energy, the otherwise dreary day seemed bright now...she came rushing in through the entrance towards the blackboard...going past all us students, 19 men (of all ages) and 1 girl, me.
It was right then that it had struck me, that she inadvertently limped after every 5 steps she took, sometimes, 6. Initially I figured it must be some handicap and tried to ignore it, but later, it dawned on me that she was perfectly normal. The 'handicap' was the sari, which was a little longer and would try its best to get entangled with her feet...and I must admit, it did a pretty good job at that! But the Madam being so totally engrossed with her work, her teaching and us, did not have time to pay attention to such petty issues. Every time the sari would get tangled, she would do a tiny hop and be able to dodge the hanging end only to get it tangled again in a few minutes time. I tried hard to tell her but thought it inappriopriate to do so, the lady was virtually as old as my mother and you dont tell them how to wear saris do you? So I kept mum...while she went on with her hopping and walking and teaching routine...till at one point of time, when she walked towards the board, a small spread of the sari lagged behind her like the tail of a mermaid....right from between her feet. It was only then that the men and boys around started taking notice...though all they could figure out was that it was a queer way to wear a sari.
I on the other hand was close to panic, if I did not telll her now, in a few seconds time, the whole class would. But alas, this was not to be, and before I could reach her, all the pleats of the sari lay sprawled on the ground. That was the time when she was about to start a documentary on the projector and right then, the lights were turned off ! Some luck I must say ! She sat down flat on her chair, which she hadn't used in the past 6 hours and stared at the video on screen while I rushed to her and told her of the situation. She was mighty more panicked than I was! I whispered into her ear about going to the wash room and handed her a safety pin. And I have never ever seen anyone vanish out of site and come back again in a millionth of a second...everything restored to normalcy...even before the guys could start snickering about the whole thing. She thanked me later for the pin...and said to me, safety pins are godsend. That would make me an angel wouldn't it?