Freedom of Choice

  Last week my family celebrated the 6^th birthday of my niece. I missed the celebration since I moved to the UK. I have seen my niece grow from day one. She is a super smart and lovable kid. To me, she is an ideal kid; the epitome of how much a kid should be mischievous, talkative, fun-loving, caring, and disciplined.

When she was barely 2 years old, we had been to our aunt’s home. I was getting into the bathroom to take a shower. I was in my shorts and my niece asked me, “Are you.. are you gonna take off your chaddi before the bath?”

I nodded.

Then she said, “Chachu, don’t forget to take off your chaddi before you bathe, else it will get wet!”

When her 3rd birthday happened, I was in Bangalore, and then too I had missed her birthday celebration. I visited our home a few weeks after her birthday and took her shopping along with the family. I wanted to give a birthday gift to her. We entered a Trends store and moved to the kids’ section. I told my niece to go around and pick a dress that she liked the most. The kid moved around the aisles and returned in a few minutes with a purple-colored frock and said, “I like this”.

When I checked its size, it was for 7-year-olds. Then I went to the section from where she had picked it up and took the one with an appropriate size for her.  She looked so happy with the gift in her hands.

Then in a few days, my vacation ended and I left for Bangalore. The usual life commenced.

[After 2 years]

I visited my hometown. My niece was 5 years old then and was studying in UKG. She had learned so many rhymes and songs. She never missed her favorite ‘Anupama’ serial every night.

One evening, I heard her howling non-stop. I came out of my room to see what was happening. There was a fight going on between her and her mother. I inquired as to what was going on.

Her mother said furiously, “We are going for a wedding reception. There are so many new dresses. But this girl is hell-bent on wearing her old frock. It’s been like years and she wants to wear the same freaking frock for every festival or function. It doesn’t even fit her now. This is crazy!”

Then I went to check which frock that was. It was the same purple frock that I had gifted to her on her 3^3rd birthday. My goodness! she was wearing the same dress for over 2 years!

My brother, her father came and took her in his arms and consoled her. Then he asked her why she wanted to wear the same dress all the time.

She said wiping her tears, “Because Pappa.., I bought it!!”

 

 

Antakshari

 

Back in the day, during my childhood, we often played a fun game that is extinct now. It was called Antakshari. 

 

It was our favorite pastime in the dormitories whenever power cuts happened or when we used to have free periods in the classroom. 

 

One of the songs that was always contentious was the mother of all item numbers - Ek do teen from Tezab. 

 

Once, when we were playing Antakshari, a team got the letter ‘A’. They started off singing, “Ek do teen.. char panch che saat…” 

 

Then suddenly one smart ass from the rival team abruptly interrupted shouting, “Stop! Stop! This is a wrong song!” 

Now, there used to be a few smart asses in either team. Smart asses didn’t sing! In fact, they never sang. But they had great knowledge about all the songs. They were like lawyers. They would catch the incorrect songs, contest them, argue vehemently and win points for their teams. That’s why they were smart asses. When they had to sing a song for their team, they just read out the lines of the song; like, “Hum. Tum. Ek. Kamre. Me. Band. Hon.” like prose. Then the dumb singers would pick it up and sing happily and earn a point for their team. Teamwork, you see.

 

 If somebody just remembered the first line of the song, they used to repeat it like 10 times. This was where the smart asses came into the picture again. A smart ass would argue, “Not allowed! 0 points! You should sing the entire mukhda. Or at least sing a minimum of 2 lines!”

 

Typically, there are quite a few different characters in the game of Antakshari. Some shy types sit in the back row. They don’t know any songs; they can’t sing anything; they are just the cheerleaders applauding and laughing.  No one would notice even if they take a break for a piss.

 

There will always be a character who will be eagerly waiting for a particular letter so that they could sing their favorite song. They will be all quiet until they get their letter, say ‘L’. Then they suddenly jump in and start singing, “Likhe jo khat tujhe.. o teri yaad mein..” with all their feelings by closing their eyes. They even sing both the antaras lol. 

 

Now, let’s get back to the Ek do teen story. So, a smart ass of the opposite team stopped the song and argued with a smirk saying, “Wrong! This song doesn’t begin with ‘A’. It begins with ‘D’. It actually goes like, “ Ding dong ding.. ding dong ding dong ding ding.. ding dong dong!” 

 

“Kya pakda hai re!!”, cheered his team. Then, a smart ass of the other team stood up. I already said there used to be quite a few smart asses overall. 

 

Smart ass 2: That is Alap. Alap is not allowed!

 

Smart ass 1: Hell, no! That is not Alap. It’s very much part of the song

 

Smart ass 2: That means, this song doesn’t begin with ‘D’ but with ‘N’ !!

 

Smart ass 1: How? 

 

Smart ass 2: Check out the song. Madhuri starts with, “Namashkar! Kahiye, kya sunenge aap? Main kar rahi thi kisi ka intezaar.. bla bla” 

 

“Yes!”, yelled his team in unison claiming victory.

 

Smart ass 3: Wrong! The song actually begins with M!

 

Smart ass 2: How? 

 

Smart ass 3: It literally starts with the crowd chanting, “Mohini! Mohini! Mohini” 

 

“Oh fuck! Yes man”, surrendered all the other smart asses.

 

Fed up of all these altercations, the captains of both the teams unanimously declared that Ek do teen will be banned from all the antaksharis going forward. 

 

And the game resumed. 

 

Not sure why I wrote this. The point I was trying to make was 2 things. First, I love Ek do teen, and second, I miss Antaksharis! 

 

 

Hope Farm

Sometime last year, my school-mate Deepa had called me. The call went a bit philosophical and she asked me, 'What makes you happy?'

I wasn't expecting that question though. I thought and said, 'Well, not big things; of course big things do make me happy but I seek happiness in small day to day things of life' 

'Can you name one?' Asked Deepa clearly not accepting my vague answer.

I didn't know what to say. I just closed my eyes and scanned my day to look for that thing in a day which makes me happy. I got it.

I told her, 'When I'm going to work on my bike at noon, it's usually the scorching sun hitting my face. When I cross Hope Farm junction, the silky smooth road with trees on the either side not only gives shade but a soothing cold breeze hits my face. The fragrance of the gulmohar trees take me to trance. That gives me the maximum pleasure in a day. I just wait for it everyday and can not stop smiling and humming songs the whole mile long route from Hope farm to my work place' 

The call ended. Then I went to onsite to UK for few months. 

Six months later, I was back in Bangalore. The next day I got my bike serviced and took out to work. Hope Farm arrived. And I continued riding. There was no wind but uneven road and lots of traffic. The scorching sun still hit me. There wasn't a single tree on either side of the road. Thanks to Namma Metro project !

English Bottle

Last year I was on bench for 4 months and most of that duration I was at my native. I have a huge family, thereby many cousins, most living in my hometown. Most of them work at the chilli market and had a huge 6 month off season. I noticed that during the off season, they mostly did lukkhagiri, roaming aimlessly, bitching about people, chasing girls, picking up fights etc. I decided to indulge them in positive activities.

One day, I told them that I would conduct a quiz. I had to explain them what actually a quiz was. Since most of them were school drop outs, I had to carefully choose the domain of the quiz to interest everyone.

“The quiz will be about our town Byadgi. The questions would be on its history, geography, politics, demography, people’s nicknames, important spots, events etc.”, I wrote in the family what’s app group.

All my cousins plus my brothers were hugely excited to experience this competition first time in their lives. The teams and captains were made and the quiz would be couple weeks later. I announced prizes too for the winning team.

Then, I had the real task at hand; that was, to prepare the quiz questions. I didn’t live in my native since the past 25 years, so I knew little. I spoke to my uncle but to my despair he had a bad memory.

After struggling for a week, I came to know about an old guy who knew almost everything about the town. His name was Mohammad Gous.

Gous was a slum dweller. I had seen him before but had never spoken to him. He was a drunkard living in a hut and must have been in his mid-seventies. His wife had abandoned him and his kids had moved to cities in search of jobs. He was probably the least respected person in the neighborhood.

I took some courage to speak to Gous thinking if he wasn't sober. He had ruffled hair, wore dirty torn clothes and wore no shoes. I went and told him that I needed his help in framing questions for a quiz and requested him to keep our discussions secretive so that questions shouldn’t be leaked. He asked me to come the next day

The news of me meeting Gous reached my Mom. She reprimanded me and said, “Now you are sitting with slum guys huh? Do you have an idea what would people think of you and us?”

I turned a Nelson’s eye to her cribbing.

I went to Gous the next day. He lit his local beedi, took a deep puff and said, “The first bus service in the town was laid in 1960. The bus used to make 2 trips per day to Ranibennur town”

He continued, “The first MLA of the town won with just one vote difference in 1968; The guy whose nickname is ‘bear’ actually got the name because he wrestled with a real bear in the local durgah when I was a teenager; The famous doctor Kendadmath’s real surname is not Kendadmath. His maternal grandfather’s surname was Kendadmath and he was a big doctor back then. This guy used his grandfather’s surname and clinic to ride on his popularity”

Gous went on and on with his stories of the past and present. I felt his brain could give super computer a run for its money in remembering each detail to precision.

Well in time I had got wonderful trivia questions from Gous for the quiz.

The quiz happened and was a blockbuster. There were about 15 participants with 3 teams and the competition was cut throat. I had never seen such fist pumps, adrenaline rushes and crazy participation before. Couple of guys cheated as well. They were caught and their teams were penalized.

After the quiz, one of my cousins came up to me and said, “I feel sad that we wasted our lives thus far. I never knew that a quiz could be so thrilling and is also a source of knowledge”

One more cousin from the winning team proudly held his medal and said “This is the first thing I have ever won in my life. When I showed it to my mother, she couldn’t stop smiling”

I was ecstatic that everyone loved the quiz. Everyone was on their toes to know when would be the next event. I promised them that I would conduct a treasure hunt in the next couple of months.

My brother asked me with raised eyebrows “Where on earth did you find those terrific questions?”

“Thank you”,  I told Gous sitting next to him the next day

He gave a half smile.

"This calls for a celebration", I said

He didn't respond.

 “Dada(brother), have you ever drunk branded liquor?” I asked him

 “haha.. how can I? I have been drinking only the local liquor worth 50 rupees. One of my friends had been to Goa and he had whiskey once and he was boasting about how incredible it was. It’s rich people’s drink you know. I can’t afford to often drink even local liquor now”

Few months later(early this year) I got a chance to go to London for an onsite visit for 3 weeks and while returning I bought a bottle of finest scotch from the duty free store.

I took the bottle to Gous and said “The knowledge you gave me, I couldn’t have found that in any book or with any scholar. You have become my favorite Guru. I couldn’t have thought of a better gift for you than this. I bought an English bottle for you from foreign. Please accept”

He looked at it as if he saw a dinosaur. Then he took it hesitantly as if he was receiving holy water

“Wish my sons respected me like you”, he uttered with moist eyes.

 After that I didn’t get leaves for months. I visited home after 3 months. I was curious to know how Gous liked the scotch.

I met him in his usual place. And asked about it.

“I did drink that bottle”, he said.

 “I couldn’t believe that alcohol can be so smooth, relaxing and mesmerizing. It felt like heaven, as if I drank nectar. Seriously, I don’t have words to explain”, he continued.  Even though he wasn’t used to words such as ‘thank you’ or ‘sorry’ before, seeing his body language I understood he was profoundly thankful to me.

“Wow, I am glad you liked it”, I said smilingly

Gous finally said, “I want to go away with its taste. I have quit drinking after I had your English bottle” 

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Roger Federer - Not for the faint hearted

It was precisely after the loss against Berdych in 2010 Wimbledon that Federer started facing words like decline and retirement. Add salt to injury, he lost both 2010 and 2011 USO to Djokovic after having match points. For the first time he didn't win a major in a year in 2011. He did comeback to win Wimbledon and secure number 1 ranking in 2012 but nothing after that. 2013 marred with injuries was his worst year. Now almost everyone including his fans believed that he would never win 18th.

But when the new stick came out in 2015 along with new Federer, I believed he could destroy any player just with his little finger. You call it bad luck or whatever he couldn't win a slam in spite of playing so well in 2 major finals.

2016. A major injury followed. It required him to undergo knee surgery and a 6 month layoff missing USO and his favorite Olympics. By then his critics(no, not the likes of KRK but the tennis think tank) had sword hanging over his head. If he was a team player, he would have been sacked!

Happy new year 2017. Yes, miracles do happen. But I prefer to call it restoration of world order. Federer comes to Australian Open with zero expectations. His fans prayed he should not go out in first round.
But to everyone's shock, he reached finals beating 3 top 10 players with 2 five setters. Thanks to faster courts this year.
Now the final was with none other than Nadal who has made him literally cry before. Fed had no grandslam final wins with Nadal in the last 10 years !! Nadal was the heavy favorite going into the match after his brilliant showdown against dimitrov in the semis.

The final match was tense. Both stole 2 sets apiece. 5th set. Federer was suddenly down 1-3. Deja vu ! Haven't we had seen n times before Federer surrendering meekly in the 5th? One more aaya ram gaya ram. Nadal was mercilessly attacking Federer backhand like he did in all the past 12 years. At this point something got into Federer. Don't know what it was. He stood there like a injured, tired but determined bleeding hero of our movies challenging the villain 'hit me as much as you can. But at the end I'll punch you one last blow'

It also reminded me of Arjuna's brahmastra that he had preserved over years and used only against his arch rival Karna. For Federer that brahmastra was well his backhand itself. He started hitting bullet like backhand winners, even the best athlete Nadal couldn't move an inch. Fed won 5 games in the trot and then finally he cried. He had conquered the elusive 18. Aah! The first expression was relief. Then the face of his wife Mirka loomed over fedfans. Poor lady has gone through so much. She needed this more than Fed himself.

I'm not even getting into how fed is the best human, most attractive off court or him being the GOAT in tennis, but this win scripted multiple stories in the history of tennis. It's easy when you say 'seene pe goli maro saheb' but when someone shoots at your back(read backhand) time and again to strangle you to death, you say enough is enough and turn your weakness into strength and crush the same nemesis to glory. This win of Federer in spite of 6 month injury lay off, in spite of a family of 4 kids, in spite of his old age(35 of tennis is 45 of other sports) has brought back the faith of current generation in fairy tales. The faith that we all have in our movies that the hero always wins at the end. Roger Federer is the ultimate hero of our times. If there is one other profession I'm allowed to suggest to Roger then it has to be of a movie script writer !

Hum Hain Rahi Pyar Ke

Sometime in the winter of 2010 I was travelling back to Bangalore from my native Byadgi. The bus stopped in the wee hours at the final destination near Anand Rao Circle Bangalore. It was still dark outside. With little or no sleep, the thought of going to work on a Monday away from the comforts

of home wasn’t a good feeling which most must have experienced. 

I generally wait till all the passengers disembark from the bus. When I thought all had gotten down, I lazily moved to pick my bag up.

My sight went to the last rows of the bus where a girl woke up from sleep stretching her hands and yawning. Her hair untied, she was fair, little on a chubbier side, wore sleeveless kurta and was looking very pretty. Ask about scanning a girl in a second that too with half sleepy eyes.

“Which city is this”? She asked still sitting in her seat tying her hair.

That surprised me.

“Where are you going?” I asked

“Bangalore”

“This is Bangalore; the final stop. Please get down” I said and got down from the bus.

I waited outside for an auto rickshaw. My thought went to the girl in the bus who seemed to be a naivete. It wouldn’t be safe for her in the dark if she didn’t know the city, I thought.

Then I felt someone coming closer and standing next to me. I turned my head and it was the same girl. She looked at me and smiled. I felt that made my Monday. She looked surreal.

“New to the city?” I asked pretending not to be over enthusiastic.

“Yes” she nodded.

“Do you know how are you going to your home or wherever you have to go?” I asked.

“No. I thought of asking. Are there busses here?” She asked confusingly.

“No. You have to take autos. Where do you have to go?”

“Maruti Nagar”

“Aah. That’s just couple miles away from the place Wilson Garden I’m going to. If you don’t mind, we can share an auto and share the fare as well” I sounded honest.

She nodded gleefully.

The next moment we both were in an auto zooming in no traffic. She wasn’t one of those who sit at the extreme edge of the seat just to be safe. She sat comfortably.

“Alright. Where are you coming from?” I broke the ice.

“Belgaum”

“Your purpose of visit?” I was curious.

“I’m doing my M Tech in Belgaum. I came to do a 4 week internship in Bangalore. My friend lives in Maruti Nagar. She actually works here. I’ll be staying with her” She said in a breath.

I saw that she crossed her hands and held her shoulders, shivering in cold. I took out my jacket and offered her. She took it thanking me and covered herself.

“Actually I’m from Calcutta you know” She said.

“Oh tomi bongoli ! tomi khob bholo logolo baba. Mishit doi”

She burst out laughing hearing my broken Bengali.

“Your laughter is better” I said looking at her.

“Better than what?” She asked.

“Than your smile”

She blushed.

Then I told her that I was living in the city for over couple years and was working in an IT firm.

.

“Bangalore is a lovely city you know to hang around over the weekends. But just make sure you don’t travel on weekdays. Traffic sucks here” I was giving her gyan.

She was worried looking at her cell phone.

“What happened?” I asked

“Gosh! My cell battery got drained. I’m supposed to call my friend at Maruti Nagar” she said.

“No issues. You can use my phone. Hope you remember her number?”

She took my phone and spoke to her friend, asked for the landmark and said she was coming in an auto.

Wilson garden stop almost neared.

“The meter is around 100 rupees. It would hit around 150 till it reaches your place. And here is my share of 75 rupees” I took out my wallet.

“You are paying more” she blurted.

“That’s fine. Let’s share the journey” I said.

There was some silence.

“You are very nice. I don’t know how to thank you enough for all your help” she sounded sweet. I could see the sparkle and gratitude in her eyes.

I had liked her casualness and her carefree smile. I wanted to help her genuinely.

 “You can. By saying something” I told.

“Something? What is that?” she was puzzled.

“I’ll tell you when I get down” I said.

“You are funny” She laughed.

The auto stopped at Wilson garden. I grabbed my bag and jacket and got down from the auto.

Standing out, I bent over and told her,  “This probably was one of the sweetest journeys of my life. I want it to remain in our memories this way. You don’t know my name and I don’t know yours. Let’s just make it memorable by… probably never meeting again”

She looked baffled.

“And to make sure.. I’m deleting your friend’s number too." I took out my phone and went to the dialled numbers and deleted her friend’s number showing it to her.

She was quiet.

“And as I have told you, can you please repeat something after me?” I reminded her.

She nodded.

“Hum hain rahi pyar ke. Fir milenge chalte chalte”

She burst out laughing.

“What is this?” She asked.

“Just say it please. Hum hain rahi pyar ke. Fir milenge chalte chalte” I was adamant.

She said still laughing, “Hum hain rahi pyar ke. Fir milenge chalte chalte”

The auto zoomed away and I didn’t look back.

Antakshari

Late last year I returned from the US and was still struggling to settle down in Bengaluru. Sometime in November, I saw an ad about Library week in office. There were Dumb Charades and Antakshari competitions planned. ‘This is my kinda stuff’, I thought.  

I went to the Library on the specified date/time for the Antakshari competition as much excited as a kid running to a newly opened Six Flags in its neighborhood. And as expected, all other participants were freshers.  The guy, my partner who I had dragged along was a 2 year experienced who cribbed, “I would be feeling terribly awkward to participate along with all those freshers”

The competition began. There was a team of two girls who were giggling all the time; they were eccentric, arrogant and over confident. In one of the rounds, I sang Ram Leela’s ‘Anga laga de re'. These girls objected that I skipped one word, so I shouldn’t be awarded any points. The judge snatched away our points for that. I got really annoyed because I believed when you sing a song, there should be leeway for one or two mistakes. Then whatever song those girls sang, I proved to the judge that all those songs either had different beginning or they had missed one or the other word. Then those furious girls walked off in the middle of the competition. May be they wanted to kill me if it wasn’t office.

Then after that incident, whenever one of those girls, the shorter one, saw me in Cafeteria, at Library or at parking lot, she gave a nasty stare. I somehow liked that; the competitive spirit, the burning desire to win, the pain of loss and the momentary hatred for your opponents. A much much younger person taking panga with me was so endearing. That's how it should be in corporate world, or rather everywhere. All should be equal; no hierarchies whatsoever. At least that's how it is in my utopian world in my mind.

About 6 weeks later or so, I saw that girl in my ODC. Someone said she was one of the few freshers the HR had promised us to allocate to my project. That evening I conducted an induction meeting to those new joinees. After the meeting, this girl came to me sheepishly and said, “Sorry sir. Sorry sir”

“Don’t be” I said smilingly.

“I’m sorry for my behavior sir”

“That’s fine. I like you. And please! Don’t call me ‘sir’”

“Ok sir”, she said gleefully. She continued, “how about we two forming a team for the next year Library week competitions?”

“I would love to, but I know one thing for sure. After one year, like everyone else you would grow serious, and you would say that you would be feeling terribly awkward to participate with all the other freshers”, I said, this time with no smile.