My Scream.

Scream by Munch


My Scream by Me.

Ka-Ching!!!

Clean shaven. Red and Black are the colours. Sharp. Capped. Has 3 Shiny golden paper stars pinned on his chest. There is a place for a fourth.

Rugged. Facial hair bordering between a stuble and full-blown beard. A kurta which was once white and had buttons. One sleeve rolled up showing a black thread holding a tiny brass cylinder wrapped around the arm.

Good evening sir, How may I help you?

Boliye saahab... kya lenge?

Hmmm ... *squints at the bright candy-coloured menus* ... One McVeggie burger please..

Hmmm ... *grimaces for effect* ... Hmmmm.... Bhindi kaise diya?

Would like extra cheese and lettuce with it? Medium fries or large?

Leejiye saab... Bahut badhiya hai... *snaps the end* ... ekdum taaza hai... leejiye?

I'll take the extra cheese and lettuce, no fries please.

Haan haan... Theek hai... Kaisa diya??

That will be Rs.62 please.

12 rupaiah ka aadha kilo hai saab... bilkul badhiya hai... kitna doon?

Hmmm... *ogles at more of the graphics* Can I have a strawberry milkshake with that, please?

Kis baat ka 12 rupaiah bol rahe ho yaar? Purana maal hai bilul... Chalo... Aadha kilo daal do. Ek kheera, Do nimbu aur thoda dania-kadipatha bhi de dena.

Sure sir, That will be Rs.108. Will that be all sir?

Haan saab, mein nikalta hoon saab... Ekdum badhiya.

Yes, Thank you.

Arre re ruko... Mein khud nikal leta hoon.

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Sir, your order. One McVeggie burger. Extra Cheese and lettuce. One straberry milkshake.

Leejiye saab. 19 rupaiah hua.

Thanks. I don't have change. Can u break a 500 please?

19 rupaiah?? Kiska ??? 16 rupaiah mein kar do sab. Masala ka thodi koi paisa leta hai?

Sure sir. Do you have 3 rupees?

Arre saab... 12 ka bhindi. 3 ka kheera. 3 rupaiah Nimbu aur Ek rupaiah Masala ka.

Sure. Here.

Arre kuch nahi... 16 rupaiah mein kar do sab. Yeh lo 10... aur yeh 5 aur Yeh 1. Ho gaya 16.

Here's your change. 392 Rupees. Thank you for coming to McDonald's. Have a nice meal.

Deejiye... Leejiye sabzi.

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I realised I was being the confused bourgeois through and through. Aren't our perspectives misplaced? Highly skewed? We silently endure the facade. But we not only ignore, we exploit the reality.

"All men are born equal"... Yeah right! Try telling that without any guilt deep within.

Bastard!

Creator

of

IRRITATING

Nasal

...Music....

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Schhhuuummmm....

A deep breath...

The eyes blink...

Eyelids close, A moment of silence... Thoughts regarding the past few hours stream back to him...

Its the last pitstop before it ends... He's done this 49 times already... Just one more...

The path is seared into his memory... each contour... each straight...

He can do this.

The eyes open.

It is met with a rush of sound and fast movement... The engine is rumbling just under him... He can see some of the others... He knows which ones will cause trouble... That guy in the white car has a very reluctant engine... and the other one in the yellow stripes barely has the guts... Doesn't matter. Today is his day. Nothing is going to stop his glorious rush to the chequered flag. Today.... he will outdo his own past....

Its time to go! He barely lets the brown elixir into the starved engine and it shoots off!!! He cajoles his baby into the mainstream... Its time to RACE!!!

A slalom is coming up!!! A left and then manouvering in for a cut on the right!!!.... (that was close)... Audience starts noticing him... he can't hear it... but he's sure that individuals are heaving and sighing as they watch his show...

Its near!! The end is near...

He gives it his all... YES! He's bettered his own previous record! A surge of joy and pride within him goes unnoticed by all those not populating his mind... A satisfaction creases across his otherwise mundane life...

A screeeeeeeeeeeching stop.

Me: "Kitna hua?"

Him: "15 rupaya"

Me: "Arre roj tho 10 rupaya deta hoon... Yeh lo!"

He takes it... bends down, restarts his baby... looks at the fool who didn't think the ride of the day worth five extra bucks... ha! Fools ... all of them!! The evening rush is over anyway... made 50 trips today... a good day... time for some chai...

And so the great Indian challenger trudges on... phatt phatt phatt phatt...

P.S. A humble tribute to Surat's auto-rickshaw walaas... For the daily thrill ride to the office and back... :D

Kar lo duniya mutthi mei...

Circa 2001, July 14th:

“Hello? Who is this?” …”Sudershan? Dei, Lakshmi chithi here!!” …”Chithi!!!!!! Hi!!! How are u??”… “I am fine. Where is amma? I want to wish her”…”One sec…”…

“AMMMA!!!! CHITHI IS CALLING FROM CHICAGO!!! FAST!!! I AM HOLDING THE PHONE! FASSSTT!!!!”…

“SUDU!! JUST DON’T HOLD THE PHONE!! TALK TO HER! DON’T WASTE THE CALL!!”

“YAYA…So how is everybody??? When are you coming to India next??? I am… Ahh amma’s here”

“LAKSHMI!! HOW ARE U??” …

“MYTHILI????? HAPPY 25th ANNIVERSARY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”……

Just about 4 years back, a call from the US was equivalent to the Indian team making a clean series sweep, Rare. An occasion worth remembrance. Due to this wonderful tam-brahm (or is it?) habit of keeping the volume exponentially proportional to the distance of the caller(or receiver). Neighbours would know one got a call from abroad: “Aaj US se mere sister ne call kiya” …. “haan ji pataa hai. Humne suna”. A whirlwind affair, such call(s) would uproot us from whatever activity we were engaged in and within 5 minutes the call would be over and the whole family would be around the phone. Amma with her hands white with the atta she was kneading. Appa wearing his reading glasses with his office papers in hand. Hema Didi also with her hands white as she was preparing the roti. And of course, your truly had answered the phone (jobless as always).

Circa 2005 September, 5 nights a week

T-r-i-n-g T-r-i-n-g…Gtalk: Call from Amma ( Answer/Ignore… ”Hello? Can u hear me?”…“Ya sudu, we can hear u. Can u?”…”Ya ma, I can. So wassup?” … “…”Nothing specific da. Ananya rolled over today. Hema has taken snaps, we’ll send them soon”… “Sure send them on gmail”…”How are your exams going?” … “3 down, 1 to go on Thursday. Will study later” ... “Appram…” …”nothing else…”

That would be my mother calling from my sister’s place in Florida. She takes care of my niece till didi returned from office. And Appa would call me asking with regard to some financials which have to be taken care off. Often I have spent 40 minutes just trying to listen to my niece’s voice. These calls rarely have content and are just made just so that we can hear each other’s voice. Note the calm conversation in the latter compared to the screaming and bellowing in the former. And I must say the quality of GTalk is far better than direct telephone calls itself.

This is on the international front. On the national front, one man’s dream has literally revamped the telecom industry in the country. Reliance IndiaPhone has revolutionized… well, BF-GF relationships. After both parties buy a reliance phone (a down investment of around 2k-3k each), at Rs.770 per month there is INFINITE talktime. A dear wingies of mine is sharing this phone with another hallmate of mine. So every night, C-123 is seen on the cricket ground in front of the wing, mumbling sweet nothings into his phone… for hours together. This has revolutionized youth relationships in the country. Earlier when fielded the question “Aur, how serious is it getting?”, the reply would be “Quite serious yaar, I call her once in a while”. Now: “Nothing much yaar, Bought a reliance IndiaPhone” and pat comes the reply “Oh that serious eh? Good for you man!”.


The greatly acclaimed telecom revolution both in India and the US in regard to Mobile telephony and Internet telephony, respectively; has changed the way relationships are made, kept and at time, broken. Mothers don’t think so much about sending their daughters to the foreign lands, as they can keep in touch so regularly. Long-distance relationships are the norm of the day. One meeting and a spark flies. So what if she lives across the country, Reliance hai na! Gone are the days when Romeos would have to dodge in the darkness & climb the balcony just to see her face in the moonlit night and hear her voice. Love’s on speed-dial. So is family. So many fathers keep in touch with their kids and spouse over the phone while their touring the world more than the mythological parashuram or odysseus.

So many of these gadgets and technologies which ostensibly are ‘bringing the world together’ and are ‘reaching out to hearts’ are doing more harm than good. There is no replacement for being in the vicinity of a loved one. At this point the pragmatic would disagree with me, saying that it’s not possible ‘these’ days for professionals to be around their loved ones all the time. That the work culture is such that, Dad’s who come in the night to find their kids sleeping and kiss them goodbye in the morning when they leave for work before they wake up, are becoming very common.

Look at Japan. The land of the rising sun too had similar family values compared to India. But the social structure there is abysmal now. In the mindless rush to recover from their inglorious war defeat, the 60s-70s worked their asses off. They indoctrinated their children with the same values and principles that they got from their parents, but they didn’t show them how to adapt those values in the modern sense. The result is the highly dysfunctional families in the country. And sadly, we are heading in the same way, albeit slowly. We have parents who are professionals and stalwarts of their respective fields but, they still want their child answer this question: Engineer or Doctor? There definitely is no panacea for such a plethora of problems, but can't we try? Or will it be too late for our generation? Caught with our pants down in the glare of global limelight?

I hope the Indian family system is stronger and infallible in view of Verizon’s $14.95 monthly calling rates.

Fare thee well, my friend......

Farewells are always a tough thing to go through. Going through each day knowing it is one less you shall be spending with some people. Waiting for the appointed day, making a few laughs while getting the baggage ready and if u are lucky enough saying goodbye at the station without any tears. It is this whole process of saying farewell to people whom you hope to rendezvous with in the future. At Kharagpur, like in many other Indian colleges, this season of bidding farewell is in the month of May. I have heard that batchmates who leave last often reprimand themselves for being the last of the 'deserters'.

I say 'I have heard ..' because, I have not seen any of these seasons in my 4 years of stay here. The first 3 years I was always in a hurry to go home and this year, when majority of my batchmates left, I was undergoing a Summer internship. Hence, I missed most of the hugs and tears that are normally associated with farewell. It was more of calling my friends up and realising they are at home or in some cases a wierd 'bangaali' voice picking it up and saying 'Yeh number humne naya kharida hai'. And there it was... the signs of people cutting off their links with the place they called home for 4 years (not that I blame them for selling a BSNL sim card for 1000 bucks)

Still, it didn't hit me until I reached kharagpur after the summers. I walk down the often-trodden paths and fail to recognise anyone. These are all strange faces, unknown faces. I walk into the hall and I missed many of the smiling faces, the swagger in their walk, the simple nod of the head, which meant "Hey! How are u? I'm great!". Then I spoke to a few of my friends and talked to them about jobs, cursed their bosses for them, wished them luck in their new endeavors. And then it sunk in.

It is not the same.

Nothing is.

Nor will it ever be.

I often used to ask myself why don't alumni jump at the chance of coming to their alma mater. I used to meet many of the alumni during sponsorship work for the college festival and all used to get in return to an invitation to Kharagpur was a shrug. Just a shrug. It baffled me. How can a guy, who can part with a few bucks for his college and also does have the time to visit, simply shrug of a visit? It baffled me... until today.

Any home is not a home without its memories. All those starry-eyed boys, who entered these hallowed halls of knowledge and left with fire in their eyes, grew up here together. They lived, ate, laughed, cried and left together. For them coming back to these buildings of mortar and stone without their comrades is simply not worth it. For they learnt more from their brothers than they learnt from the grey-haired professors.

Hence it is time, for me(and my remaining wingies) to bid a fond farewell to all our dear friends. And hope that we shall meet again. For it is only hope that remains in the box.

Farewell

Ergo

A Boulevard of broken dreams.
A phrase stolen shamelessly,
from a ballad for the lonely.
Not subtle.
Not accusing.
But a true one, nevertheless.

We all walk down this boulevard
finding bits and pieces.
Bits and Pieces and Fragments.
Of dreams, Of fantasies,
Of hope, Of confidence,
Of the Heart.

Yes!
The wicked heart.
A heart which grants life...
A heart which guides life...
A heart which cajoles life,
in the amber of its warmth.

But alas!
Alas, for those souls!
Souls whom this very heart led astray.
Souls who still are trapped in the sepulchure
The sepulchure of Truth
The abyss of Perception
The labyrinth of Love

Think using your heart, they say
the hallowed heroes of yore
DO WHAT IS RIGHT!!!

Right???
RIGHT???
Right & wrong.....
Dark & Bright....
Joy & sorrow....
Black & White?
or is it
White & Black?
While the bourgeois haggles on these,
The neo-enlightened say:
NAY! Its Grey!
Grey as the moors of the north,
Grey as the skies of the havens,
Grey as life itself!

But why does the heart see no grey?
It sees only Black & White or White & Black..
through glasses, coloured rose.

Why does it lead a man into a journey?
A journey which never ends.....
A journey which abrubtly ends.....
A journey which, i am sorry, never begins.....

And think using your heart, they say...

A Beautiful morning......

Pudhu vellai mazhai indhu pozhingindrudhu....
Indhu kollai nilla udhal nanaighindrudhu....
Indhu solladha iddam koodai kullindrudhu...
Manam sondhala idam thedi allaihindrudhu....

Yeh haseen vadiyan...
Yeh khula aasmaan....
Aa gaye hum kahaan...
Oh mere saathiya....

These are the lyrics of the song tht was playing in my head(from the film Roja) this whole morning.

I didn't sleep the previous night.It was more due to the reason that I didn't feel sleepy than anything else. Then early in the morning (a time wisely called Brahmamuhurtam), a friend(dept. mate) of mine and myself decided to go to cheddi's(a 24 hr canteen) to have tea and crib abt our lives....

Yes... cribbing about our lives... As to how it was a foul moment in our lives when we wrote away 5 yrs of our life to a set of hypocritical and macheivellian humans we call "Professors of
Agriculture and Food engg, IIT kgp". To crib as to how it was unfortunate that we were in a field which had only 500 applicants for GATE, hence making a basic preparatory book unavailable ( the publishers see no profit in a gate book for agri ). To crib as to how we have been wronged by the system......

The system... isn't it always 'the system' or 'them/they' who are to blame for all those professional milestones we could not achieve.... Please do not get me wrong, this monologue has nothing to do with GATE ..... It is about finding a lacuna in your life and realising that everyone has it and it will never be filled, only ignored satisfactorily.......

As usual we cribbed... but this time there was a difference ... what that difference was,I shall not say now... nor anytime soon... what came out of that difference in attitude only time will tell...

But as the golden rays of the sun slanted down to the hallowed lanes of my(our) campus, it brought back a warmth and a sense of possibility along with it... It was as if the shafts of light were sent not to pierce the darkness but to caress the luminesce.

Then we walked back the paths to our rooms... and the beauty of the road, which had been so proudly, elegantly and hopefully been named "Scholar's avenue", was overwhelming. It was as though it was a path not to the same old dreary dorm rooms, but the road to neverland.... yes, neverland. A neverland which is as individual and unique to every person as the love of a father for his child.

The rain from the previous night had washed away the dust and tiredeness from the leaves and branches of the trees and bushes. It had suckled the tender grass on the roadside. It was as if it was mother nature herself catching hold of my finger and guiding me through the roads. In the honour of the moment the trees seemed like proud knights. each shining in their own armour of greenery and vitality.

I walked with my buddy till near his hall. stood there for sometime and took breaths of the air which seemed like ambrosia ripened to its prime. At that point the cretin had to make a 'joke'
which took me out of my trance.

The return journey to my room was not so etheral. but for the first time that i remember, my heart rang out clearly in a baritone (my chords responding to their best :D ).

It is a morning which I hope every person on the planet experiences, and if possible with his/her loved ones.....