Silent Tears

Pain is not it is all

More it is much more

Happy days often return

Tears again run

Nights are often long

Silence again prolong…

I started to write a poem but the aching in the heart is just too much. We have heard so many times that life is too complex. I always believed that it could be lived simply.

I have tried to be always happy. I have always kept simple rules for life. I have kept faith in the people. I have seen life as it has presented itself, never tried to go into the evil interpretations. I have done things as people have expected me to do, I have always told them whatever they wanted to know. I have always believed in the God. I have always thought that people can teach me so many new things. I have slept early and I wake early, for I fear darkness. Whenever I will wake in the middle of the night, I always pray to God to please sit by my side so that I can sleep without fear.

I always wave from the train doors at the kids who are waving from outside. I always put my hands outside the window when it rains and sprinkle rain drops on me. I avoid drinking tea because it burns my tongue.  Some times I can not cross a busy road for scores of minutes and I pray to God to please walk by my side so that I can cross without fear.

I think I have asked God for so many things. She wants to teach me that never keep any expectations. That is why she has given me so much pain, so much tears. I have cried so much to please forgive me, I will take away expectations also from my life. But God wants me to shed more silent tears because again I am expecting forgiveness.

I don’t know what to do. 

Dog

You can see them everywhere, from morning walk to evening walk, from balconies to gardens, from train compartments to cars, from drawing room conversations to road side chats... they are the second most visible zoological beings in big cities after, well,.. we humans.

What if they are also there, I was not concerned, but what made me take notice of them ( or jealous of them ) was the fact that a dog’s ‘pic’ on facebook attracts more likes and comments from their female fans rather than ‘pics’ of  normal male brethren. The man’s best friend has authoritatively become girls best ‘friend?’.  

Ahh.. choww sweeett.. followed by three heart symbols, which I don’t know how to make, irritate me to the end of my neurological system. You look at any album of the fairer sex to satisfy your pre-medieval male desire to peek into anything related to ‘them’ and you end up looking into their dogs in different poses. Isn’t it frustrating?

I tried to dig deep into this dog business and it prompted many questions. Why people in bigger cities keep dogs more? Why women, children and elderly love dogs more? Big cities are the classic cases of people feeling ‘alone in the crowd’. They feel the need of having someone ‘faithful’ by their side. Women, children and elderly need the love and care of others and in the absence of human love and care due to busy city life, they resort to canine love.    

So, if you want to see less of dog ‘pics’, you should start loving girls around you more.  ;)

Moreover, dogs have become status symbol like “well.. I don’t know hindi aachee se, I can understand it thik se but reading and writing.. I’m not sure, ajeeb feel hota hai..” Not knowing hindi is the status symbol of the most big city dwellers. Carrying a hand bag as large as half the body size is the status symbol of the most big city girls and wearing a low waist three-fourth showing the favourite ‘chaddi’ brand is the status symbol of the most big city boys.

Anyways, coming back to dogs, I agree they elevate the status and they increase the love and care quotient. But still I hate them from the very deep bottom of my heart and I have my reasons.

i)                    No species can withstand the pain of the sight of their female counterparts loving other species. The idea of being in competition with dogs is not very self respecting.

ii)                   There is a sum total of quotas of all the affection and care in the world. If dogs receive them all then what will be left for we poor humans?   

iii)                 Balance of any ecosystem is disturbed when one species start to dominate it. We should diversify – cats, rats, parrots, lizards, rabbits, anything but dogs!!

iv)                 They lick. Since their owners allow them to show their affection by licking, they feel pleased to lick anyone who comes near to them. Men should not be licked by dogs.

v)                  They pee and poo at wrong places. Men are not supposed to clean the pee and poo of anyone except their own babies and holy cows.

vi)                 They invade your ‘that’ space. There is a certain distance you maintain from other people and you allow only very few people to come closer to that distance. Dogs should not be one entering your ‘that’ space.

vii)               They are dogs.  

There are two possible endings to the dog story –

One, girls suddenly or slowly realise that guys are better looking, smarter, funnier, more caring and lovable than dogs.

Two, to hell with all bitches!!

Bright and Dark

I walked along,
On road alone.
Darkness followed daylong,
On road unknown.

World is full of pain,
Workload is insane.
Freedom in chain,
Life is vain.

I walked along,
On road alone.

A girl in rag,
Carrying filthy bag.
A kid to drag,
With their hands swag.

Darkness followed daylong,
On road unknown.

We walked by,
Girl singed high.
Boy little shy,
A cut on his thigh.

I walked along,
But not alone.

One piece of bread,
Two hungry head.
Sick dog lay spread,
Even it was fed.

Darkness follows daylong,
On road unknown.

Both smiled bright,
Was I right?
Life is sprite,
Its how you sight.

I returned along,
But not alone.
Brightness stays nightlong,
On road now known.

South Scrutiny

I arrived at Erode, Tamil Nadu on the morning of 21^st June. My friend Banshi and I, we decided to take breakfast at platform only. The first bite of uttapam with tomato chutney and coconut chutney, and I fell in love with this place. My God! It was yummy.

Do you remember good old Doordarshan? Whenever something remotely obscene or indecent was to be said, it will blank it with sound of ‘tuunn...’ For example,’ tuunn..., tuunn..., main tumhara khun pee jaunga’. If you had asked me before 21^st june about my views on south India, it would have been complete ‘tuunn...,tuunn...’ only.

The irony is that I had never visited south Indian states – Karnatka, Andhra Pradesh, Tamil Nadu and Kerala before this visit. But I always deeply hated the idea of visiting them. For me, south India meant hot scintillating summer, no water in the tap and black people in lungis and sarees eating rice with both hands muttering some unknown language and the sweat from their foreheads falling into the food.

Now, after spending two weeks in ‘hardcore’ Tamil cities of Erode and Madurai, when I am returning back to Gujarat, I miss the taste of that tomato chutney.

First, the food. Its not all about idly, dosa, rice and no spoon. It’s about the style of serving them, it’s about the things with which they are served. I had the opportunity to eat in the traditional tamil style at my friend Srinivasan’s house. We sat on the floor and dinner was served on banana leaves. The real taste of food is not due to it’s core content – rice, but because of spicy chutneys and sambhars with which it is served. Even rice is full of spices and variety – tomato rice, lemon rice, curd rice and sour tasting rice – the name I don’t recall. The menu is not so restrictive. Uttapam, vada, pongal, puri, parotha (its not the north Indian parotha), biryani – they can make anyone’s gastronomic juices flow. One interesting dish I ate at Srinivasan’s house was chilly parotha. It’s similar to chilly paneer, where a thick parotha is broken into pieces and cooked in chilly gravy. The food is no doubt tasty but certain things look different and peculiar. Even in good restaurants, they serve on banana leaves kept over plates. They certainly save lots of dish washing charges. And, no spoons. Absolutely none. You have to eat with hands. The only use of spoons was that they kept it over the bill so that it doesn’t blow away in fan! Also, they always give bill before you have finished your meal. And, with food-tainted hands, it is difficult to pay them without washing your hands. Wash-basins, hence, are a must.

Coming to language, most people understand basic English. It is a great thing. Although I have never tried, but I doubt if many people will understand English in north Indian states. Tamils are too emotionally attached to their language. They prefer speaking in Tamil and to a certain extent hate Hindi. I picked a few Tamil words – ‘nira’, ‘sundal’, ‘runda’ etc. It was quite an experience when you have to communicate with someone believing them to be deaf and assuming yourself to be mute.

Lifestyle of Tamils is unique. Their dressing style is very traditional. Women wear sarees with usually thick golden borders. Girls wear salwar kameej. Every day they will buy jasmine flowers and thread them together to wear it in their hairs. It’s like a ritual. Almost every female I saw had ‘gajras’ in their hairs. Skirts and jeans are extremely rare. Men wear white shirt and white lungi. Modern men wear formal pants and coloured full sleeved shirts which are many a times red bordered and flower-printed. It looks so funny.

People are found of jewellery. They are very religious. Madurai, anyway, is a city of temples.

Everything is not so good also. People drive rashly. Crossing the road is very difficult. Tamils are also not much concerned about hygiene.

Coming to my favourite topic – girls. I liked Tamil girls. Despite their uncool dresses; oily, plaited, combed and gajra-ed hairs; dark shade of skin and all other factors that make a girl non-existent in north India; I wish I could talk to and befriend any such Tamil girl. They have this element of ‘lajja’ in them. Whenever you look at them, they will shy away, leaving behind a trail of curiosity. You feel like a boy and they behave like a girl. It’s not like Delhi, where if you glance at a girl, she will gaze you back so intensely as if you are butter chicken masala for them!

Ah! I want to explore south more. I need more south tours. :)

Young girls and not so young man

(Written en route Pune to Ranchi on 21/05/2011, so all little stories refer to incidents within train)

Faces can mislead. Emotions, thoughts, character – face is a great revealing entity. And yes, age. But due to some unknown quasi-cosmic reason, my face stopped ageing a decade ago.

Any girl on any given day will be ready to run up and down the Vaishnodevi shrine five times to stop her face showing signs of ageing. But ask any boy – er – man. The sole reason for the existence of male species on this earth is that, well, he has to be a man. When a male is not able to get himself branded as man despite being a man, the awkwardness he faces is unique to me. I haven’t met anyone who is asked of the class in which he studies even seven years after last attending the school.

Asked by a family once travelling with me in train, when I told that I study in class 12, the man replied, “You look too young to be in class 12, doesn’t he look like Pitto who goes to school with our Chooti?” His wife nodded with the biggest possible grin and gave a little pat on Chooti’s head. Chooti who seemed to be in class eight or nine smiled at me shyly and the depth of drooling in her eyes suggested that either she had a major crush on Pitto, or a face like Pitto with more manly credentials had really excited her. I gave a hint of smiling back.

This is the problem. For Chooti and her family, its a perfectly normal reaction. But for me, I am not even in class 12, I have been in job for more than two years now and Chooti is just a little girl for me.

I have been unfortunate enough to study in IIT and now to work for the government of India. Both places are devoid of female species of every possible kind. I really don’t know the intricacies of talking to a girl. I have no idea of how to stand, sit, look, breathe, hear, and think – in the presence of opposite sex of similar age. So, I have developed my own ways to face the challenge. Some of them are -
i) Get ignored by them, this is the easiest. Thank God that most girls ignore me.
ii) Try to spend as little time as humanely possible in presence of girls of same age.
iii) Talk as if your every sentence is costing a month of your salary and try to keep the sentence to really rudimentary form.

To the top of this, when girl-kids, half my age, simply make all excuses to talk to me, I feel like hanging myself. When everyone else is asleep in afternoon, this Bengali girl asks me, “Tumne khana nahi khaya?” She shows such a feeling of care that I curse myself. I don’t know what to do. I know most boys will hate this, but I will be mighty happy if some day these girls start calling me ‘bhaiya’. Now this girl is offering me Britannia cake. My God!

This mismatch of actual age and the perceived age is already taking toll on my working life. I naturally don’t fit in as an officer of many employees. People find it hard to see me as their future boss.

I have a history of young girls developing ‘very soft’ feelings towards me. Fortunately, the feeling is not mutual. I really hope that some day a twenty something girl will also develop similar feelings for me. I will wait the whole time while I am also in my twenty something. Or else, I will write another blog in my forties on same issues. ;)