The Adventurous Journey

In my childhood,I remember the surge of excitement I felt when in the silent night I first spotted a faint yellow spot..far away..and then heared a weak rumble on the tracks. The spot got brighter, throwing a shaft of light that illuminated the tracks, the rumble got louder
and now i could hear a weak monotone of train whistle..even as I watched, the rumble turned into roar, the whistle turned louder and shriller, demonstrating the practical manifestation of Dopplers effect. Finally with blast of air and a loud bang the engine passed by, followed by its obidient rack. There was this terrific sound of running wheels and jumping springs and I watched in awe a red/blue wall hurrying past...a continuous line of window grills,interrrupted by the black panels of accoaches..until finally it was all over and I could only hear the faint rumble on tracks and the red trail light of the last coach..after some time the rumble died and the red light would melt into the darkness of night. I returned with pride for having seen the non-stop "Himgiri express"(which is still called "Toofan MAil" in local parlance) pass by at 90 Km/hr speed from the railway platform of Hardoi.

Train in India has a queer romance associated with it. Perhaps because buses and trucks are too common place to attract attention, aeroplanes are too costly to travel and ships are limited to seas, an individual in hinterland gets the maximum pleasure in train.Fastest and cheapest,our good old train gets highest priority among affordable means of travel. And then there is that ever present hope among most of us,at least till we are unengaged: In train you may meet the person with whom you may be destined to cover the remaining journey of your life..well, who knows?

Therefore, our journey back home from college for semester holidays, a long one spanning aproximately 2 days of our precious lives,was an inevitable pleasure as its romance was always compounded by the presence of friends. Friends, who were diverse and unique, each one capable of creating a potential havoc!

On this particular journey, our group was a broad spectrum of guys ranging from the softly romantic Guptaji, to the downright gross "Jangali". (They already have had their
introduction in while explaining the history of my name in an earlier post).At 11:00PM we all boarded Rapti Sagar Express from Chennai to start our journey towards Lucknow. Too tired to either talk or take an account of our surroundings by making a walkaround in the compartment, we fell on our seats and were soon snoring out our tiredness.

In morning I got up with the hollow noise of the train crossing the bridge falling into my ears. "Vijayawada", I mused sleepily,still too reluctant to open my eyes and begin the monotonous day in the train. Through my half open eyes on the side upper berth what i saw made me alert my senses to attention..right before me,below on his lower berth, there he was,our friend Gupta. In college we need to pour a bucket of water to push him to class, but today he was wide awake, even as it was just 7:30am. And worse still, sitting right before him was this girl, the one with an innocent face and lovely figure. The langour of an
improper sleep still on her charming face, she had her large black eyes wide open and seemed to be lapping up with great interest all that our friend had to speak!As if this was not enough, a middle aged couple, who seemed to be her parents,appeared to nod in agreement with Gupta and her younger brother, still a child, was moving all around, relishing the snacks we had purchased for our journey!

"My God"..I thought with green eyes and a burning heart.."Gupta seems to have got a pretty good start.." But then, it was long journey and the competition had just started. No doubt, my friend was at a vantage position..having his berth right before her, but I was also a seasoned player. Having resolved to defeat Gupta in this game of enamouring the beauty sitting before him,I got down my berth..pulled out my toothbrush and confidently walked down the aisle towards him.

"Good Morning"..I exclaimed, while giving Gupta a rather hard pat on the back,in a way that it went unnoticed with the lady and her family,but not so with Gupta who groaned in pain but hid his grimace so deftly beneath a veneer of smile that it never became clear to the people around. "Good Morning pape"..Gupta replied back,grinning mischiviously for having thrown his first dice by revealing my rather mature sounding nick name to all the people around.

The girl's brother was the first to take it up.."Pape!!", he laughed aloud...and burst into an impromptu poem, "Pape...exam main taape"..rounding off my embarrassment with an innocent question: "Bhaiyaa kya aap exam main cheating kartain hain?"..By now the entire group was double with laughter and guffaws,while the parents were half heartedly trying to put the child to a stop. The girl in particular gave out a huge smile,a clear ringing laugh. Gupta, quite amused by the success of his gambit, sat smirking. I somehow managed to force a smile and requested tooth paste from Gupta, my explaination for coming to him.He handed the same to me and I rushed out, while a comment followed from Gupta to the group: "Apna saaman to
hostel main koi rakhta hi nahin hai!"...I cursed Gupta as I knew that it is my tooth paste he had kept for our common use in his bag!!

I put all my venegence on my teeth, brushing with all strength even as my mind and the train both raced forward. People jostled around the leaky and slimy steel basin, and a couple of urchins hung around the footboard. I could not allow Gupta an easy victory,and still,he had all the cards in his suit. Should I involve others? That was a crucial question as involving others will give a phyrric victory in the sense that I myself would be unable to relish my
success as they will never allow me to talk to the girl alone.I decided to give it another try.

With the renewed "Close Up" confidence, I moved on towards Guptaji's berth.Enroute I had taken up my copy of The Hindu from a vendor. With an air of Mr. intellectual, I sat down
beside Guptaji and spread the paper on my lap. While I tried my best to pretend reading the paper, my eyes continuously scanned the effect my actions were having on the girl. The glossy picture and the bold font finally had their effect and to Gupta's chagrin the girl said : "Excuse me, can I have a page"..My happiness knew no bounds.."Yes..thats the opportunity I was waiting for!". But before I could extract and forward her the "Lifestyle"
supplement, she unfortunately lunged forward and helped herself with the "Open Page". As she saw with consternation the big page full of words and gravid titles like: "Colonism in Afghanistan:A historical perspective" and "Poignant Reminders of Philosophical World",I knew
that my chance was gone. She turned the pages, perhaps trying to read an advertisement for reprieve, and ended up with a dour looking column with words "Read Frontline". Indeed,the pain on her face showed that she was completely unimpressed and was waiting to return the paper with minimum possible civility. Her brother reduced her predicament by suddenly snatching the paper with a comment :"Bhaiya kya bore paper hai yeh", and returned it back to me, in the process cleanly tearing it apart into two sheets. While this action of the child elicited a mild reprimand from her parents, the girl seemed to be only happy for having come back to the normal world. Gupta utilized the opportunity fully by forwarding her his
portable music system with those old romantic songs. She took it up with an elegant "Thank You" and closed her eyes to be lost in music.

Having thus squandered another chance,I knew that I need to do something urgently to cut an impression. I thought of consequences: Gupta will narrate with zest his romantic journey, he will portray me as a pathetic side character and I will end up becoming a laughing stock in entire batch.I had two options : either try again to make an impression or become a "fidyeen" and destroy Gupta's impression as well. I chose the latter option.

I moved on to the next compartment where rest of our group was sitting. The scene there was the expected one. Perched on the top berth was Pradeep Verma, still sleeping. Nitin Tandon stood near the door, demonstrating his uncanny abiltiy of making ringlets out of cigarette smoke and near him, almost hanging from the door, his hands on both bars,was Jungeli,enjoying the open air, speed of the train not withstanding. As I told them the situation unfolding in the adjecant compartment, their senses were alert: jungeli was back on his seat, Verma was wide awake and Tandon stood in the corner, the cigatatte still dangling down his lips. The meeting concurred that it was a matter of great concern that our friend was lucky enough to have a pleasant journey and a nice story to narrate, while we were suffering the torment of sweltering heat in the train, with no one to speak with. To add insult to injury, Gupta was not allowing us to move around, this is a great treachery perpetrated by this vile friend of ours onto his loyal batch mates and he should therefore be subjected to an exemplary punishment....having come to this comprehensive conclusion unanimously, the group sat for another 30 minutes chalking out a strategy to thwart his moves.

This done, we four people moved into the scene of action. We set our base at my seat on lower berth and decided to launch a frontal attack from there.

First Jungeli started,his face suggesting all the expressions of a habitual drunkard. He went to the Gupta's seat and paused...Gupta was busy chatting with with girl, while her parents were all ears to the conversation. QUietly he asked him, "arre Guptaji where is that
whisky bottle we brought at Chennai?"..Gupta was flustered at this egregious lie. The expression of the girls parents was one of disbelief,while girl herself coiled back,amazed
at this revelation. The brother was no where to be seen..I thanked God for that. Gupta was caught unaware..he somehow gathered himself and shot back : "What are u talking about? I dont know about any such thing"..."But u kept it in ur bag last night", Jungeli persisted,"..and u told that u cant sleep without a peg or two...though we told you that its not possible in train", and then suddenly,as if aware of people around,he said.."oh..ok..i see why u cant drink here..anyway Guptaji,agar talab lage raat main to udher aa jaana". With these potentially damaging statements, Jungeli turned back towards our battle base. We patted him for his excellent performance and went on to launch the second attack..

When Nitin Tandon reached the place,the battle tide was already turning towards us. The parents were viewing Gupta suspiciously and the girl looked out of window listlessly,as if reflecting over the gravity of the revealaton just made. Nitin Tandon arrived at the scene
with a cigaratte in hand and matter of factly asked : "Oye Gupta,bag se jara ek aur pack to dena!"..needless to mention, Guptaji was caught completely offguard. Having nothing to prove his innocence admist this spate of vile allegations he got up and took his bag exclaiming:"Kya bol rahe ho..lo dekh lo bag main..kyon jooth bolte ho"..Tandon had his cards all ready, with a face filled with admiration he exclaimed :" arre wah Gupta,ek raat main poora pack! Tum to Guru nikle.." and then looking around him he remarked "vaise yaar yahan per manage kaise kiya?" Of course Gupta didnt care to reply the last question and continued gazing on the pages of his open novel. Tandon returned back to the base grumbling loudly.."kaise dost hain..bina share kiye poora pee jaate hain"..

"Superb performance"..I congratulated Tandon. I knew that we could now wait for some time before our third attack. I gloated gleefully at the ice that had desecended on the earlier merry scene around Gupta. The parents were almost convinced of his vile habits and were trying to open a conversation with other fellow passengers, while the lady was trying to sleep, her face rested upon the window. Guptaji, finding the atmosphere almost too heavy stared into the pages of his novel even harder..the novel almost covering his entire face. Indeed the embarrasment, anger and the expectation of next attack gave his face a queer
expression which was being readily construed as that of guilt by her parents. We were celebrating our success over a cups of tea, sponsored by me.

Finally I took out the last arrow in my quiver. Pradeep Verma, his face as usaul suggesting a threat and his eyes somewhat redder than ever because of early awakement(at 9:30am) started towards the battle field. The girls brother was still conspicuous by his absence. Verma went to Gupta and with a friendly slap on his head, growled in his typical style: "Abbe Gupta voh towel to de jis per kal station per jua khela tha humnain"..this was indeed the proverbial last straw. Gupta's face was red,his eyes glowered and his entire body was stiff with his typical angry expressions. But Verma,unconcerned as usual,kept on his well rehersed dialogue: "..abbe kal to tune phod diya tha..jeet gaya tha sab aur daru kharid li thee..ab Tandon ko kyon nahin deta hai?"...and then suddenly turning towards the family and gobbling the girl before him in his one glance added:"..arre yeh kaun hai bey,intro to kara
jara..",this was obviously follwed by the unprintable version of sweet nothings of college. Now Gupta lost his temper, in a violent fit he started towards us, but soon realizing the futility of this, he blurted out,"Verma chaato nahin,main janta hoon yeh sab buddhau ka kaam
hai".This piece of remonstration did not seem to be of much help as the expression on the girls face had now shifted from concern to insecurity and she had shuffled closer to her parents. The parents were now pretending to sleep,perhaps praying for journey to end. Anyway, Verma having played his role successfully came back and we congratulated him. The battle was won and rest of the journey was bound to be a hell for Gupta.

Had it remained like this for rest of the journey,things would have ended and the story would have been over right here. But for her brother, the little spy,he was right above our battle base where we had been long planning and sending soldiers so successfully! He had been there all through and had heared everything! And now as Verma returned,he jumped down to my utter horror and with a sly smile added "Main sab janta hoon..didi ko bataoonga".
Needless to mention,we were aghast! All pains were wasted. He soon proceeded towards our battle field and gave a bleaguered Guptaji much needed reprieve by announcing: "arre yeh sab jooth hai,yeh sab to bhaiya ke dost unhe chidhane ke liye keh rahe thae". Gupta's face lit
up for the first time in the past 2 hrs. And a light of triumph it was! The little imp soon went out to explain as to how had everyone been taught his dialogue and as to how they had rehersed and how much we were enjoying his predicament. All remained still for a while and finally the girl broke out into a laugh..a clear shrill smile that made her face more beautiful than ever and exclaimed: "My God Pankaj,your friends are really too much...I knew that you cant be this sort of person..how stupid of them to play such stupid pranks"..and soon her parents too joined in the laughter and then of course Guptaji found his words and muttered out :"Aunti college ka atmosphere is really bad,you see these people,there are many like them". The girl remarked:"per aap unse alag ho..", and I knew that battle was again lost! Guptaji returned to his usual self,joking,chatting and sharing songs,while the train moved on. We three cursed that little devil and thought if something could still be done,even as we were already baddies for everyone out there. our fidayeen attack had been unsuccessful. We were hurt,but vicitm escaped!

They say that the game is not over until the last ball has been bowled. Things had gone too bad for us till now and there was little hope. It was 15hrs since we received that shock and the train was now nearing Kanpur where the girl had to board down. Gupta of course had cut quite an impression and was now reeling out his mail id and address for a long term correspondence. All three of our group were urging that it was time for the captain's knock,perhaps that would help. So,against all hopes,I started towards our old battlefield. Accompanying me was Jungeli and we went and sat beside Gupta. Everyone ignored us,afterall who would like to talk with baddies? The rhythm of wheels had changed and I could see the tracks multiplying outside. The train had entered the railway yard of Kanpur and something had to be done soon,if we were to save ourselves from mockery in the college.Gupta had hids diary out to take the girls address.

I made the first move:"Gupta yaar tum jua ultimate khelte ho..kya baazi khele thi chennai main"! Gupta surveyed me with an expression of ridicule and replied:"haan khele thi to?".Obviouly,knowing fully well that nothing could now destroy that carefully built 15 hr impression he was complacent. Jungeli added:"Lekin yaar itni daaru acche nahin hai sehat ke liye..lever kharb ho jayega". Gupta was too complacent and gave a terse reply:"tumse matlab,main jo chahe karoon!" Then I said:"chain smoking ki adat chod do yaar..accha nahin hai"..Gupta replied:"Pape tu apna kaam dekh..tension mat le mere baare main".Alas, in retrospect Gupta wished that he had seen the expressions on the face of girl and her parents while he gave these replies! Their faces were again clouding up and the brother was staring
at Gupta in disbelief. I finally rounded up by saying :"to phir Gupta tumne humian kyon naihn diya yaar..sab kuchh bag main rakkha raha aur tumne bataya bhi nahin!"...Now..it was
now,that Gupta saw the face of girls mother and immediately realised his folly! He wanted to make amends but before this she said: "Haan bhai,aap log aise hi paisaa waste karte hain apne parents ka!!" and brother said with a painful expression:"Bhaiya mujhe aapse yeh ummeed nahin thi!"...Gupta wanted to scream and explain the things,but alas..alas..it was too late!

The train had entered the platform,and was steadily coming to a stop with that typical screeching noise.Desperate beyond all measure, Gupta turned towards the girl,at least he could explain evrything on mail...but no..she turned towards her mother and her mother turned towards door. As Gupta forwarded his diary,a pathetic expression on his face,the girl said grimly:"ab to aap ko address dene pehle sochna padega..Good Bye"..and they all got down,leaving Gupta sad and upset over this sudden turn of events. Gupta turned towards me and Jungeli with a fiendish look..we smiled and shrugged our shoulders..well, the fidayeen attack was finally successful! Mission accomplished!

Thus ended the brief romantic tryst of Guptaji. When we returned back after semester holidays,this story was told to all,by word of mouth..it was told and retold until it became a legend. Guptaji himself enjoyed it and we were all happy that regardless of everything,we had an
adventurous journey afterall!

The Silent Love..

I very well remember the first time I saw her...

She was sitting alone on a chair, her one hand elegantly held a mug of coffee and in other she held a letter. A lovely smile played on her lips as she read the letter. I felt a rush of jealousy creeping within me for the writer of the letter..must be her brother's, I consoled myself. She had nimble fingers and a beautiful face. Her lips were slightly parted and her long tresses flowed freely on her back..with a red pullover accentuating her features, i was dumbstruck and stood there, agape, silent,looking at her like a gauche..

So absorbed she was in her thoughts that she seemed to be completely oblivious to her surroundings. Did I mention that she was sitting in the most unexpected place? It was outside our mess,where any sensible girl will not expect to passby,leave alone read the letter which this Madame was doing. I wanted to rush towards her and tell her what a place it was..i wanted to request her to go.I could not afford to see her being admired by all guys around the place...i felt a surge of anger when I saw my batchmates leering at this statuesque lady. But alas, I was constrained..how could I blame my batchmates, when in fact I myself could not stop admiring her beautiful features...

Somehow I gathered myself and smiled towards her..she gave no response, but kept reading. I flushed..my batchmates laughed aloud. I was flustered and shuffled inside the mess. She did not seem to be much concerned about my embarrassment...this made me more desperate.

This was our first meeting...we both were silent, but then at times actions speak louder than words.

Time passed, but her beauty remained unchanged..she will still be there always. Whenever I went to mess I made it a point to take a digression and pass by her..there she will be sitting..as usual smiling and radiating her infinite charm. I could see guys vying to talk to her..to go near her..but somehow I was confident that she will not speak to anyone. The first person to speak to her will be me...

I inquired with people all around to know her name or her address..i put all my limited mental acumen to guess her antecedents. Every day I will go to mess with a firm determination to talk to her..to know her name...but the moment I will reach there my tongue will lock, my steps will freeze and my confidence will vanish into thin air. I will again stand like stupids,gazing at that lady and later become the laughing stock of my batch mates. And she will be as usual calm and staid..not a word out of her mouth, not a trace of recognition on her face.

I became obsessed..."Who writes her those letters"..I thought and thought..i became obsessed to the extent of dementia..I will dream of her..dream of her talk...Oh how mellifluous will be the voice coming out those lovely lips..how graceful will be her talk, how sublime will be her passions..her serenity charmed me and her silence seduced me.

Then one day as I was going towards the mess I saw that..and my blood simmered in my veins..there was the most vile guy of our batch..standing before her..i could not see her face but what i saw made me mad with a wave of jealousy and infinite sadness. There this ruffian was..standing close to her..touching her cheeks..and..and ..I shake even as I write it..and kissing her cheeks!!! Why this was toooooo muuuchhhhh. I failed to talk to her and here was this fellow impudent enough to KISS her! I turned back..my face flushed..my whole body shuddering with an impotent fury..why..why..why..questions were hammering in my mind. Why did I love her..why did I fail to see this secret tryst going on right before me..how could I be so insane...my heart was broken and tears rolled down my cheeks..I came back,locked my room and did not go to mess that night.

As night grew,so did the heaviness of my heart..around 1:00am when all was silent,when most of the inmates were either in their rooms or were completely out of their senses,I came out..for a stroll. Inevitably my steps moved towards mess. Something made me think that she will still be there..I moved on. It was a silent night whose stillness was broken only by the occasional slow murmur of insects around the ground. As I crossed the mess, I saw her..there she was..I knew she will be there..I cant explain it why..but I just knew! Silence of night emboldened me and what I saw today anyway had left me with little choice..I came close to her..she smiled..I whispered..almost to myself.."I Love You..Please Marry Me!!!"

I closed my eyes..expecting her slap to imprint her 5 fingers loud and clear on my face..i remembered my old ragging days and counted..10..9..8..(In retrospect I realize that it was really stupid of me to think so..but why, then my obsession had deprived me of the most obvious common sense!). So I counted..nothing came forth..silence all around..eyes still closed, I could feel silence all around me..until finally it became deafening. I opened my eyes slowly...she was still smiling..oh that serene disarming smile!!! And that moment I knew all..it all came flashing in that moment of realization..why,I was such a fool..she loved me all the way..only I was too naive to realize it..that vile guy was just a ruse to goad me into confession. of course we cant live apart..I HAVE TO MARRY HER NOW!!

I had seen this in films..I didnt know that it will happen to me..but at that time it seemed such an obvious thing to do.(Today it seems to be so idiotic!!). I slowly put my hand on her shoulders and took her in my arms. We came to my room together...I spent the night with her.

Next morning my life had changed! She was the magic..in morning I'll get up to wish her good morning..i will rush back from class to be with her..i will kiss her before leaving for class..i will spend hours, simply looking at her!! Life was a bliss. My room was the cynosure of all eyes. They rolled in jealousy no doubt..they passed all sorts of comments..they tried to malign her..but I protected her like a shield. They used to make stories around her, I didnt care. Thankfully none told authorities of her presence in my room. Already the mess workers were wondering where did she go!

Thus passed the 8th semester and the time came to bid good bye to the college. One guy commented: "You should leave watever u took from college to your juniors"...I was wild with rage..I slapped him..I could not stand a word against her. But then the reality slowly dawned...why, it was indeed not possible to take her home. What will my parents say? They know nothing..will they ever understand our true love? There were questions without answer. The hostel wardboy had helped all along in confiding my secret and now he requested me to leave her in his custody..he promised to take good care of her. I knew that he has taken her as his sister and she can live with his family, till i explain everything to my parents and take her to my home. She can come along with my junior.

Those were days of separation..we spoke nothing..in fact she rarely did. Whenever I saw her, my eyes welled up. I remembered the night when I had brought her to my room..when we married..i remembered the countless hours I spent basking in her smile..I remembered the good times we had in college..can I leave her? Well, I had to.

Finally the day came, I had rolled up all my luggage. My room,which had sheltered me for 2 years was empty and she was lying on the empty cot. In few moments we will be separated. Oh how selfish I was! I eloped with her and now I didnt dare to take her home..but then,life is like this. My auto came and ward boy held her...i slowly moved towards auto when suddenly my eyes met hers....I saw that expression there..that ever present smile,beaconing me back :"Oh please dont go..I will die without you"..Did i hear something? Or was it another hallucination I had out of the grief of separation? No..no..i cant live without her. I snatched her finger from the bewildered ward boy and took her in my arms..I kissed her and in the mist of my tears I saw her happy face. That moment I knew, I have to take her home..

Thus we completed our journey. An extra passenger, she travelled more like a luggage. I had to give conductor all sorts of explaination for this extra burden.He even took some extra charge, but I knew that every penny was worth it. We chatted all through the journey and finally after 52 hrs, the train was at Lucknow. I got down the platform and my home people were there to meet me. I took her in my arms and told my mother : "Mom,meet my wife". As they saw her they exclaimed in fury...my mother told that I should have left her from whereever I "picked" her up. Such words? i was incensed....but thanks to my sister Gudia..she took her in arms and said that she will live with us. I thanked her and thus split, our family moved towards home.

Gudia took her charge the moment we reached home. My love was allowed to remain in her room.
My mom, like typical mother-in-law declared that she did not want to "see her face"! But my sister took her care and when washed and fresh after the fatigue of long journey, my love entered the drawing room, my mom took me in the corner and whispered :"I know that ur choice cant always be bad!!!"

Honey...this is a single word for all I can describe how my Moms words felt to my ears..things happened the way I never even imagined. Why my Mom agreed on her sahring my room!!

And thus came that evening, when she bathed and decked herself up. My entire family gathered around. My sister helped with the arrangements and other trifles like bringing the stool, and we searched and located the most suitable venue: the wall above my bed. My sister decorated her with lace she had brought and stuck a small red "Bindi" right in the middle of her forehead. Ever beautiful, I took her in my arms. My sister held the stool below tightly and my parents held their breadth, until i had driven all 4 nails into the wall. Thence I got down and we 4 people went back and admired:"She looks beautiful, doesn't she? We wish we have a real girl like this for ur lifepartner" and in that sublime moment the picture on the Nescafe kiosk of our college mess was immortalzed on the wall of my room!!

The Home coming..

The train stops for a 1 minute halt on level with a mass of concrete pavement that passes for platform. There is a little rush, some porters running with signals and vendors vying with each other to cater to the uninterested passengers. With my small bag and a plastic bottle,I step down from the train. Before me there is that typical rhombus-shaped white tin board mounted on an electricity pole...on a red strip in middle it announces: "Hardoi".

So finally I am back into my journey of re-discovery. Rediscovering my home town after a stint at glitzy destinations..Bangalore-Hyderabad...I saunter out, the ticket collector at the gate is standing sheepishly. He just passes dour glance on passengers,never once daring to perform his duty. Once in a while people will condescend and show him the tickets..I did..this seemed to make him more surprised than happy.

Outside station its the usual scene, the rickshaw is the only mode of transport available and it is scarce today. Its the time of harvest,so all are busy in villages,I am told. With this piece of information under my belt,I decide to walk the distance till I get some mode of conveyance.

Its 8:00 PM and shopkeepers are preparing to pull down the shutters, the town now has PCOs at every kilometer, 2 years ago telephone was a luxury and PCO a rare "dukan" where u got to talk to people in far off places like Lucknow..110Km far..now that's some distance!

The road is lighted by weak street lights which make a small pale yellow circle on it, most of the road is dark anyway. Some of these patches are now populated by urchins who have gathered for a quick game of cards before ending the day with desi liquor. Years ago the local MP participated in a gala horsetrading and was awarded the post of State Power Minister..those were the days..people recall..we used to get power 24hr a day..never even a blip..what a grand luxury!These street lights are memoirs of the gone good days. Government soon tumbled as its the case always and our MP was relegated to an insignificant position..but we still have power..this is a big deal..so no regrets.

I walk through the street carrying the landmarks of Hardoi. There is of course no traffic at this hour. As such you can always afford to walk in the middle of the road as rules are quite lax. There is, for instance,no road divider and no traffic light anywhere. A traffic police is obviously out of question. No doubt its a drivers nightmare and a jaywalker's paradise! Afterall roads should give a proper right of way to all..ranging from well controlled Mercedes to the whimiscal bullock cart!

As I advance I pass through the SBI branch, station road. Near it we have the the only ATM of this district. Locals call it "Note ka dabba", they watch in consternation nearing to a reverential awe,as the machine spews out currency. I remember the first time I did transaction on this machine. The grocery owner next to it insisted on me first offering a part of sum to God before entertaining me for a purchase. Next I come across this time worn bust of Mahatma Gandhi, placed in a trianguar garden. Poor Gandhiji..for ages he has his gaze fixed in a straight line that runs between his eyes and a film poster that belongs to Anand theater, famous for porn movies,now running : "Papi paet ka sawal hai"...I move on,ignoring the rush of enthusiastic movie goers leering at the overly explicit poster. Gandhiji looks on,as he has been doing since I was a child.

Further ahead, I pass through "Zila Chikitsalaya" or district hospital, an island surrounded by a pool of slime with a green crust over it. People unfortunate enough to fall into it and thereby gauge its depth say that its pretty deep. Outside there is a huge hoarding shouting "Do ke baad phul staap" and its walls, shedding plaster, are adorned with ads like "Bulbul chaap bidi..hamesha peejiye" followed by :"Hakeem Usmani, khandani dactar".."shartiya ladka hi hoga"...it goes on till the ads merge with its dilapidated gate, which incidenly is always open. Outside this building are always standing 2 buses,with the a rather portentous writing,"Laash ke vaste",no wonder people have no confidence in the doctors working in the hospital! The condition of these vehicles makes them a perfect match for their purpose and I have always had a queer felling that they are themselves pretty close to the destination of their cadaverous passengers.

As I keep moving on the potholed road, i see a rickshaw coming from opposite side..i call him but he zooms past me,paddling as fast as he can. I look back with amazement. The reason for his lithe motion becomes clear as I see him turn into a shop titled "Desi Sharab ka Theka". I conclude that I am doomed to walk the distance today. Now I have entered into the main shopping area. Traders have already closed for the day and dogs are putting a brave fight on the streets. I yield the main road to its legitimate night owners and walk on the side walk,which is not much different from road.

I see the only net cafe of Hardoi: "The Cyber Zone". With two PCs and a rate of 40Rs per hour this is a famous haunt of modern Hardoi-ites. I remember when I once wanted to collect material for a project and inquired if the net was working. My conversation went as follows:

(Note : CZ => Cyber Zone)
Myself : Net kam ker raha hai kya?
CZ : Kya karna hai aapko?
Myself : Net chaiye tha 1 hr ke lye..
CZ : Result check karna hai?
Myself : Nahin
CZ : Mail karna hai?
Myself : Nahin...
CZ (flustered): Phir kya kam hai?
Myself : Browse karna tha....
CZ (utterly confused): woh kaam yahan nahin hota...

I somehow coaxed him by saying that I needed net for chatting and did my work.

For result checking the rates go as:
"Pass ho jane per 10 rupiya aur fail ho jane per 5 rupiya".

Of course there is no guarantee of data saving as there is no backup and power can go any time. Thus you definitely cant complain the guy of cheating!!

I have crossed most of the bazaar and am close to my home. The streets have narrowed down and I can see a lot of familiar faces. Urchins criss cross the street and the familiar hand pump is surrounded by people for all sorts of work: drinking, bathing, washing....

Suddenly here comes this half naked (as usual)neighborhood guy named Kallu..full 12 years younger to me..and yells out: "Bintoo aiye gaye!!!"...None of them knows who is Suharsh. The news ripples through the word of mouth of scantily clad children,it passes through roofs, via a long ghoonghat clad 75 year old and shying BabuRamDulahin, past the Peepal and Neem trees, past the cows and the temple..and finally the carrier barges into my home to leak it to my mother.Soon I am a celebrity in my locality. As I cross the mowing cow and jingling temple bells, goaded by the cheerful yell of "Bintoo aiye gaye..bintoo aiye gaye" in which all children of street now join as a new game, I am inside the home..urchins still stand outside in the circle, Kallu still boasting how he was first to recognize me!!

So this is home...no doubt its no where compared to Bnagalore and Hyderabad. Afterall the yearly fair of this town (called "Numaish") is a matter of daily routine out there. There we talk through e-mails and here people are yet to learn how to send snail mails. But here I find a genuine concern and a real empathy..something that is woefully absent in the glass and marble jungle of my new hitch abode..

The Common Room: A guided tour

aaaaahhhhh.....claaaaash.....thud.....eeeeeeehhhh..ssshhhh..
where are we entering? The classic bedlam of the ancient ages?? or is the modern incarnation of a Greek battlefield? Well..its none of these...welcome to the most chaotic place in the first year hostel, The Common Room..

The Common Room,a zone where diversity ruled and studious people rued!!

Let me take u through the guided tour of common room...enter from a small wooden door,which is quite an understatement considering the world that is inside, the door is superscribed in Red Paint as 52-A.
Yes now u r at the threshold of this world..beware lest a carelessly thrown shoe or a carefully aimed cloth-hanger-missile hits u,as such pranks are typical over here. Before u now lies the vast expanse of common room..hall of a room, with 10 cots,5 on ur left and 5 on ur right. On the other end u can see 2 windows one at each corner. Before left window lies a table,while the other one is closed. Why? u may ask,considering the sweltering heat of Trichy..but dont dare to open the window..lest u do, u r bound to face a sortie by a train of bees whose hive lies right outside it! ok..wats this structure right in the middle of the room? Why its a double bed..no..no..double decker bed..correct..this structure will serve to accomodate more guys,just in case.....as such u see, there is still SO MUCH space..guys can still find a space to breathe..we can of course have 2 more people! Anyway, till the time this sublime thought does not hit college authorities, the 2-storied bed is being used to accomodate all the trash and belongings of the residents..u see we have only 4 cupboards and 10 people..still we can have 2 more..we are liberal at heart afterall isn't it?

ok now..lets begin with the inmates. Start from left row and move towards window..looks like a hospital ward doesnt it?

First cot: Meet Mr. Zahid from Bengal,football player with an atheletic build and the unofficial leader of Bengali ppl in the first year. The term Bengali ppl also includes FYI, the "basically Bengali" class..who will be soon converted into the colours of their parent state.

Second cot: Looks like a confused fellow,ever smiling and trying to "eat water", well this is another of our Bengali mate, Jia-ul-Haq, who is attempting to learn Hindi and therefore calls his chance encounter with a girl as "Dekha"(this is a noun in his Hindi lexicon).A friend of Zahid he was..till the time they came on cross roads for a girl..ah that murderous night..how can i forget it! look out for it in future posts.

Third cot: Here we have the Big Boss..a big belly and a huge stature..but touch him and he cries:GAJAB...this is Ajay,or Metal Bhai,from Bihar. This guy is set to create wonders in the time to come,so be on look out for him in further posts.

Fourth cot: A genial guy with an air of friendship..did he shy away? well this is Mr. Deepak Mundu from Jharkhand.
Fifth cot : Perhaps the only guy with a phisique nearing to metal Bhai,though not quite like it, for he can nowhere come near his pot belly. This is Chris and is he covered in quilt at this time of the day? Well, i bet a fortune that he will be wearing nothing else. Openness is his by-word,be it his character or his dress in room. More about him later.

Now we turn around towards door and start again from the second row:

Sixth cot: Hey You..beware u r entering into the zone of Ram Babu from Andhra Pradesh. With his stiff voice and manancing countenance Ram Babu cuts quite a figure. And no marks for guessing where is he now..TV room of course. The two seem to have an intimate relationship and dont dare to comment on it as u may have to face the full fury of Ram Babu then..i wont be able to help, thats my promise.

Seventh cot : Here lies a guy all in knots. His body is flexible,seems he was born in some Chinese gymnast family.This is Senthil Nagarjan from Tamil Nadu,the only architecture guy here. He is a good source of gossip from that department, to which God seem to have tilted most of the fairer part of our batch...so respect and pamper him.

Eight cot: Here lies a guy who still does not seem to have completely come out of childhood. This is Albert from Jharkhand. Want some good source of porn material? well, contact him..or want to hear some gross anecdote? he is the contact person again.With a relatively meek entry,this guy went on to spend a night in a truck driver's home in first year..dont ask me why and how!

Ninth cot: Now here we have metal bhai in the convex mirror! He will reach till the waist of metal bhai,but dont underatimate his strength..he has the record of putting all 9 of us down in wrestling! Meet Ajay, from Orissa, the disputed leader of Orissa,and known by a variety of names that are huge in number and widely disparate in quality. Thus the list goes from Leader to Chapraasi!His bragging knows no limits..after first ragging he was all set to murder all seniors and an hour later he was going for another session with other state mates,his head down.

Well finally we come to the 10th cot, the only one perhaps where books dominate other accessories and where the copy of The Hindu is always present. This is or was,my place,in the entire room.

So this is the common room, and with the wide spread cultural and behavioral diversity of its people,u have every right to expect tumult and incidents everyday. Before these people play their prank on u,let me escort u out safely.......

The History of Papaji

The name Papaji sounds queer. I came to bequeath this name by the grace of my good old first year friends in college, who had so much enthu to lessen the enormous burden of ragging by humor,regardless of its quality. The room in first year was not a 'room' in the strict sense of the word. It was a dormitory instead. Metamorphosed from a common room meant for recreation,our room was a host to 10 people from diverse places and backgrounds,with equally diverse habits. No doubt it was a melting pot of civilization,in which we all 10 souls evolved from the disgraceful status of "Juniors" to a hallowed status of "Senior" in an year. While I will describe the adventures in this room in greater detail in further posts,let me concentrate for now in my present topic. So, a little away from this "dormitory" was the room of Pankaj Gupta, who came to be christened as "Chachaji" towards the final year. In first year state sentiments ran high as we were looking for the geographical neighbor as our first instinct in the now-alien-college. This guy being from Lucknow, our closeness was obvious. The room mates of this dude included a an individual whose weird activities gave him the name of "jungeli",though his habits were indeed not too far off from the macabre connotations of this title. As myself and Chachaji were together for most of the time, the slick-minded Jungeli lost no time in coming up with an all-encompassing name of "Papaji". The name then implied an intimate companion and advise giver,but with the passage of time junta went on to bend,twist and manipulate it as according to its convenience and we had a wide spectrum after 4 years ranging from respectful sounding "Papaji" to downright degrading "Buddha Khoosat"!! The name went well with my habit of mentoring events and enjoying the vicarious pleasure of their consequences. It also suited the un-asked for pre-test classes wherein hostel public would flock to my room and walls became scratch pads and impromptu white-boards only to be covered with all sorts of circuits and motors. Thus in the first month of college was created a nickname that was to remain with me for the remaining 4-years....

Welcome to Papaji's Corner

So what's the purpose of this blog?
I have been into the habit of writing diary for past 10 years. Through this habit I have been lucky to witness the transition from the serene morning of childhood to the sunny brightness of youth, with all its glory and travails. My diary has logged my predicament at being caught talking in the class as also my frustration on being unable to resolve a bug in design,more than 8 years later. It has recorded my pleasure on getting a first position in class 8th and my joy at passing out of my graduation with Distinction. It has on its fading pages, grudges of a child, tempers of an adolescent and moods of a youth, with myriads of emotions. Problems always exist,only their nature and scope changes!!
So the whole purpose of this blog is to give vent to my musings and ,may be, narrate a few incidents that make up this whole grind of school-college-job interesting. So if you too share the belief that life can at any time be stranger than fiction, then read on!!