I hate travelling

i have started hating the journey i have to make to office and back everyday. delhi to noida and back.

i tried looking for alternate arrangements. but none has helped. some take too much time. some involve too much money.

everyday i have to travel on crowded buses, packed with people of all kinds, particularly the labour class. thankfully it’s winters now, or there would be people sweating heavily. also there would be a variety of odours spread all through the bus.

the bus is packed to the hilt. still the conductor ascertains that the bus is empty. if given a free hand, they surely can pack some 50 more men inside. if you are a good looking girl, may be you can get some favours. you just get space enough to position your feet. today there was scarcity of that too.

people exchange slangs freely. behenchod and behen ke lund are just so common here in delhi. and if you talked a little louder to any one, be sure to raise a fight in an instance.

the journey back is still more tortuous. most DTC buses have already gone for a rest. blueline buses are in scarce supply too. while you can get a number of buses in the morning, keep standing for half an hour or more before you come across a blueline bus. and believe me all of that is planned. the lesser the number of buses, the more is the number of passengers.

as if bus wallahs have an unquenchable thirst for passengers, they keep adding more as they move. at times, the buses move at the pace of bullock carts. however, you will feel that this was better because they suddenly stop without notice. shouting at the driver will be of no use; he is immune to it now.

worst is when they suddenly decide midway to rest for the day. rush if you want to get some of your money back. only if you are arrogant enough can you get a better refund. or they will adjust you on another bus. if you thought that was too generous on the part of the bus wallah, just have a look at the bus that he is adjusting you in. it is packed. so packed and packed makes it to pack-square.

i would still think it’s better. because the worst is still to come. at ISBT, there is a riot of people waiting for auto rickshaws to ferry them to home. these auto-rickshaws charge Rs. 5 per passenger. auto rickshaws returning home take in passengers to earn some extra income. however, not all auto-rickshaw wallahs are looking upon this extra income. in delhi, traffic rules are very strict; the smallest mistake invites Rs. 600 as penalty. so hardly does a auto wallah stop to take in passengers. every time an auto stops, a horde of people run to take in seat. if you are fortunate, you get a seat. if not you will have to keep waiting.

don’t know how many days or months will i have to keep bearing the tormenting journey. i couldn’t learn to ride a bike. now brother insists that i first learn to ride a scooty or a car and only then will he buy that for me. also i haven’t been able to locate and make friends with a guy who drives from noida to delhi. so until i find an organisation that offers cab facility, i will have to continue bearing.

spit, spat, spittoon on the road

walking besides buses can be dangerous and dirty. i experienced this yesterday at ISBT. there were a row of buses and i was looking for my bus. just then i felt something rested heavily on my shoulders. apprehending it to be some bird’s work, i took the hanky out and slowly moved it for my right shoulder where the thing lied. i dont know what inspired me to see the culprit lying in the hanky now. and as i put my eyes on, it was like yucks. someone had spat on me, and it was of that frozen variety that happens when you have cold for a number of days.

i have forever hated spitting. maybe because i myself can’t. i have three years to complete three decades of my life, but still don’t know how to spit. in fact the saliva stored within my mouth gives me a distinct accent. but i have no problems, i cant be spitting every time. people already comment on the large number of times that i go to the loo.

people have grown so bad at spitting these days. not always was the scene like this. i think it was after the gutkha was born in india. do update me at when the gutkha was born. i think it is not more than a decade old. earlier there was the tobacco, which increased the spitting frequency, but at least it didn’t leave stains at all place.

outside our house, mom has constructed this bench like structure over the drain. while it has become the meeting place for all to meet, they would all leave their foot marks in the form of gutkhas spit all over. and to top it all is the dry cough which will not move unless you put great effort. when the bench was new, mom tried to keep it clean, but after trampling on a similarly heavy piece and vomitting thereafter, she has given up on cleaning the mess.

we indians really don’t seem to have any civic sense. not any wall can manage to be clean if it’s public property and there’s no man to forbid people from spitting or just releasing their pressure.

about releasing pressure, i can’t say i haven’t done it myself. yes, public toilets in delhi are few and far. and the toilets available are so ill kept that you have to trample over yellow floors (that’s because urine contains ammonia) but looks like shit.

but as i was telling, we indians excel even in that. i had to willingly take a longer route to catch the bus at ISBT because the smaller route stank through the night long urinal that people would use it as.

but very less people believe it as uncivic to spit or urinate at public places. the worst is that women too are doing it. in my locality, some women too have taken to eating gutkha. god knows where the people are headed to.

A baba in my backyard

naval, my neighbour’s neighbour, woke up one fine day to become a devout krishna bhakt. no, the transformation was not so revolutionary, but i got to witness this revolutionary change only on this sunday. normally i open doors only when i get ready to go to office. so until it’s a sunday, people seldom get to meet me.

so when i went out to buy milk, i was taken aback by naval’s ‘hare krishna’ rather than a usual ram ram (as is typical delhite’s way to address known people) or a simple namaste. another shock was waiting for me when i raised my eyes to his face. he had this big vaishnaviite tika on his forehead. the sandal wood tika had also flown on his nose, making his black complexion look odder. chilling delhi weather has failed to make his complex any fairer. and FYI, his daughter, by-product of a dark man and a relatively less dark woman has grown up to become the darkest.

so along with that prominent tika and the hare krishna address, he also likes to give pravachanas to people who he encounters. just yesterday i watched him discoursing about gods, kalas, karmas etc to another neighbour’s son, who would on other occasions mince no words to show he is disinterested, leave aside listening patiently to a lecture. good that naval doesn’t talk much to me or else i too would have to go through those boring talks.

yes, i feel such things as boring. no i not that hippie kind who don’t have faith on god. only that i don’t like anyone telling me how am i to pray to god so that i will get moksha. sorry i dont want moksha; i only want a good life here and here only, and that is what i pray to god. for this i dont want any gurus. in fact i hate gurus and anyone who preaches (except for ramdev baba, who doesnt preaches anything, just tells us how to keep our body and mind fit).

and how do i believe that this naval has good intentions. bagal me ram muh me churi. just on sunday night i heard that he was fighting with his brother. he doesnt have good relations with his elder brother although all of them live in the same house (they can make only as much money to get a bare enough living in delhi).

but that does not make naval any less baba material than the many babas who throng the TV. i am told that most babas had a black past. many of them are not as well known outside their state as they are inside the states to which they belong to. so it will really not be a shock for me if i open the tv one day to find naval discoursing to a large crowd.

A shoulder to cry

don’t know how i get to shoulder people who are fixated with grieving. and grieving for no reason and not looking for any rational solution as well. don’t remember anyone from my schooldays, but there was this person from my pune days. he was from my class and though not a roommate, he somehow sensed that i am all ears to his boring talks. and from then on there was just me and this boring he.

at my first organisation, i befriended this another ‘ronu’ (one who always has reasons to cry about). ronus come in varied shapes. you can seldom recognise them from the guy outside. the first encounter was during leisure hours and i found him interesting. he came out as witty, blurting out A+ non-veg jokes. but once in my company (at times i blame myself for making the environment gloomy) he opened up. from the immediate boss, company, salary, his counterpart, his cubicle, he had multiple topics to weep about.

changing organisation didn’t help. in my new organisation, i got this ‘ronu’ from south india; see they are a widespread phenomenon. i once posted about him in this blog. before the appraisal, he complained about how his sinus problem is causing him problems in speaking (i have always attributed this to low confidence and lack of creativity- sinusitis affects when you talk, not what you talk).

after the appraisal, he wasn’t ready to put the blame for the poor appraisal on boss. only after he sat again for appraisal that he could make up his mind. and worse, the complainings have increased.

today he has been shifted to another room. good that i don’t get to hear him at all times. but he would always skype me for going downstairs to this chai-dhaba. and after many nos i finally give in – even he has no one at office to whom he can confide.

so the shoulderings continue.

computers aren’t user-friendly

had it not been for blogging from office, i would have seldom been as punctual as i am now. these days i blog everyday and feel satisfied that the blog is growing, at least in size.

just give a thought to this: won’t it be great if computers too started as soon as you switched it on. my laptop has a weak battery and as long as it opens up completely, it has already exhausted half the battery.

also exhausts the motivation to do something creative on computer. before i had a computer, i always thought of doing some freelance work after office. but once i bought one and now got one from office, i seldom have that desire. it’s only when i have a strong desire of something, like watching porn that i give computer a preference over TV that i can switch in an instant.

also you have to sit all the while before your computer. can’t we have something where we can keep the computer or laptop on a stand and we could do the typing while reclining on the sofa. the laptop can’t be kept on the lap, lest the powers be lost.

so if there is someone from computer makers who have come across this blog, try and find a solution. i will be obliged.

Guess who

At office all dread him. if he is present during the lunch hours, you can be assured that you will have to go with a half full stomach. Boss’s pet as he is, be ready for gossips to reach the boss’s ears. He will talk at the top of his voice, no matter how strongly you want to concentrate on work. Talk about competition, he will use any tactic in the world, good or bad, to win the game. Cooperation is a strict no-no; yeah he is always ready to take credits of the cooperation. And the best of it all, he is a master at sneezing; asthmatic as he is, his sneezes have his distinct feel. Much that you try to hate him, he is there sitting just opposite to me, trying to get one more favour from one of his numerous contacts.

The Convocation

yesterday i had to attend my convocation. for lack of any direction in career, i had taken up this course. and one year after completing this course, i still feel havent reached to any decision as to where my career is headed.

okay leave that. lets talk about the convocation. i was really excited that the vice president of india is going to do the honours. wow the first feather in my straight life (although it turned out to be a disappointment at the end). when i learnt about it, i called everyone in my family. also told it to many friends. but not many were matching exuberance. even when i told to my eldest brother, he said it wasnt any use since i wasnt putting the degree to any use. anuj too said that he would have been more interested in the certificate than who is presenting it. hey i know that but isnt it really a honour to meet the VP. and given that i got the second rank in my class too can’t be ignored, you see.

okz so though it started off with much excitement, it slowly faded with time. only on saturday i had this urge to prepare for the day. but also there was preparation to be done for deepawali. and there was a tub full of clothes to be washed. even then i found some time to check if the trouser and shirt fitted well. yeah they did. white shirt with vertical stripes and black trousers gave it a more legal kind of feeling. looks like i forgot to tell you what course had i completed. it was a PG diploma in labour laws. so you can now see that i was rightly dressed- formal and more law-ful attire. also thought of complementing it with a coat- but thought otherwise- people would take me for a marketing person.

Murphy’s law at its best – the day you want to reach a place fast, odds against you will outnumber the evens, prevent you from reaching the place on time. at the convocation grounds, we were to reach hours before for the rehearsal (seen nothing as childish in the recent times). much before this we were to come to collect the gowns. the invitation card had it mentioned that the gowns will be available only upto 1 in the noon. and though i had this premonition that people cant be so perfect with time in india, i hurried. first i didnt get a direct bus. then the bus left me fending for another bus for a whole 20 minutes. finally when i catched the bus running at my topmost speed, the bus was caught in a traffic jam. finally i made it to the college just on time.

there was an elaborate arrangement made in the lawns. some media people too had been called. demarcations were made for the guests, judges, faculty, students, etc. PG Diplomas were at the end. i dreaded imagining myself walking all the way to the stage to attend the merit certificates.

putting off the thoughts i hurriedly ran for the gown counter. the gown was this black polythene like fabric complemented with a green scarf. and for this, we had to deposit Rs. 350. (Rs. 50 were hiring charges. the rest was the deposit). people will leave no stone unturned to cleave us of our hard earned money. also they had this studio where they were charging Rs. 100 for a set up photo and Rs. 50 for photos on the stage. since everyone had asked me to get a photo shot for memory, i agreed (which in normal occasions i seldom would have).

by the time i had spotted some people from my class. they werent friends but just knew them by face (not even by name). was searching for digvijay but he hadn’t come. i voiced a sigh of relief when i learnt that we merit holders had seats earmarked for us in the front. thank god; or else i would have surely tripped once or twice in the way.

the first rankholder too was with me. i couldnt have the courage to ask his name, but then i saw it on his chair. also we had this colonel from the army sitting just beside me. he was the second rank holder in the batch next to ours.

in next half an hour a full dress rehearsal was to be organised. i know there was a big dignitary to attend the function. but this isnt school where you can expect sudden behaviour from those who attend. so there was this host who announced the different proceedings. how everyone is to stand for the procession of VP, chief justice of India, etc. stand again for national anthem, stand when names are called. agh that was so childish. i was yawning all through the rehearsal and also during the actual convocation. and though the colonel on my right started off with an erect posture in the beginning, he soon started to follow my yawns and very soon laid relaxingly on the uncomfortable chair. a civilian training a defence person, ha ha.

after the dress rehearsal was over, the thought of spending 2 more hours doing nothing overpowered me. but the time went by. posed for that individual photo. though we weren’t to wear the caps, we were given one. there was also a degree certificate that was rolled and tied with a blue band. manish, who was from our class, had this unique obsession to be photographed. he had this digital camera with him. he asked me to click a photo of his simultaneously. i did, but the photo wasn’t captured. he clicked mine when it was my chance. subsequently he had his photo clicked somehow.

oh i forgot one more thing. during the dress rehearsal itself, i had come to know that the VP won’t be giving us the merit certificates. it was some R. K. Anand. i didnt know him. thought of checking on him in google today but went on with this blogging. also the gold medals were for a select few.

so the principal motivation of recieving the merit certificate from VP was lost. now what. okays would do with this disinterested task just as i do many others.

the convocation turned out to be a very small affair. before the thing was to start, we were presented with the function itinerary,which also included the speeches of the CJI and VP. they were to simply read these out. i dont know why they give a speech then when it is all in written before us.

after the LLMs recieved their degrees, it was our chance. PG Diplomas had some 30 people, 4 each from each laws (two each from 2006 and 2007 batch). we were to line up in the side. that meant i didnt have to walk right at the centre. good for me. i have always been shy about my walking style.

after shiv ram, who scored the first rank, it was my turn. i rushed. Mr. R. K. Anand turned out to be a good person. i didnt know if shaking hand would be proper. but he made the initiative. he also gave that intellectual elderly wallah smile. i was moving after taking my merit certificate when someone from the camera weilding persons asked me to look at them. and then someone clicked the photo. i didn’t know so many media men had come to shoot the event. finally it turned out that they were to sell these photos.

so with me having recieved the certificate, the event had nothing more to look forward to. more speeches, more bowings, more recitation of national anthem. and then the event finally concluded.

the photographer was yet to get the pictures developed. so we headed for the gown counters. deposited those harry potter style gowns and got our Rs. 300 back. high tea was being offered. there were cold pakoras, fruit cakes, sandwiches, and gulab jamun on the menu. i took some pakoras and a cake. i had my eyes on the gulab jamun, which out of propriety i took only one at a time. and while i was planning to take another, it was already out of supply.

got our diplomas. but had to wait for around half an hour before the photos will be available. then while roaming i came across these photograph vendors. they too were selling them for Rs. 50. and here i spotted this good photo of mine taking the merit certificate and watching at the photographer with a smile. rarely has any picture of mine been so good. i immediately purchased this one. he was insisting on buying two but i didnt.

but the sponsored studio wallah had still to get the photos developed. in the meantime, prabhash from aaj tak and our classmate, shot us in his professional camera. he has promised to mail me the pics. manish’s camera had run out of battery. still he shot a few more pics of mine. he told he never retreats on his promises.

shiv ram had left by then. everyone was waiting in the lawns for the pics. and then finally the person came. there was a crowd of people waiting for the photos. everyone wanted his own first. good looking ladies, handsome men, army personnels, everyone. first i thought it to be so childish. but then i too joined the crowd. i finally spotted my studio pic. it looked as if i was from russia. someone i had seen in an old book related to the russian revolution. i was least interested in another pic from the stage. i already had one and was praying that somehow i get a refund, which i got at the end. it so happened that the lot felicitated by R. K. Anand was completely missing. so i got the refund. some happiness at the end. ha ha.

but the day had not ended for me. from here i had to go shop for some dry fruits. but that’s another story. wl talk about that sometime later.

Chole Bhature

i met a long time friend in a restaurant and over dinner i made this humble comment on how working women in delhi force their husbands to live a life of bachelor even after marriage. since the couple are busy or tired after work, they seldom do the cooking at home. so it is chole bhature or chole kulche or similar other delhite fast food that they have to do with. or else it is wholesale cooking, i.e. cooking for several days at a stretch. however this comment was not easily palatable to my female friends back in pune. actually this friend of mine posted this in his blog and i was instantly tagged male chauvinist.

below i have attached my explanation to the same, which definitely didnt pacify the ladies angered by my chole bhature comment:

“Hello all

Didn’t know my simple dining table comment would generate so much of opinion. So here I am to explain my stand (would try to give the best possible explanation). And let me tell from the very start that I am putting down my opinion. And it has never been my intention to hurt the feelings of any person. I know this will be a really long mail, but if you want an explanation you will have to bear with it.

Feel all of you might be thinking how conservative thinking I have. But let me explain I really am not that conservative. I am for greater respect to women and would always stand when women are being victimized; of course to help them out.

Talking about sharing of work between men and women. Yes, I also have a pucca belief on that. A loving husband (if you are) wouldn’t favor that his wife is toiling hard with household chores and he is busy watching cricket. His hands automatically reach out for things that he can best do.

Now that brings us to the question of what tasks is a man ‘best’ at doing. Certainly not all the tasks. Men and women have been programmed in different ways. While men can do out-of-the-home things better, women are programmed to do things inside the home. I have theory to support this. If you want you can read it, or can SKIP this.

(Sigmund Freud has explained in one of his theories (don’t remember the name) how men and women are different. In the Stone Age, men would go out far away into the jungle to hunt for animals. So men became very skilled at tasks that involved high physical aggression. Men are also good at directions since they had to return home from far away regions. Women in turn had to go look out for roots, herbs etc. in local region. This involved precision. So women became too skilled at doing things near to home and tasks that involved precision like cooking, sewing, etc.)

Now whatever men and women did in the past, their habits was further made pucca through practice over the centuries.

And if you are trying to turnaround the practice in a matter of decades, it surely going to hurt people like me. I being a bachelor for all these years, have experienced how it’s like living alone. Don’t let your imagination fly. I am talking about the food etc. That was the primary talk that day when I met Shreyas. Have been somehow eating; though now we have a maid who prepares everything except what we tell and what suits our taste buds.

So if I am marrying now, I would certainly expect good food, which let me tell you I am not able to prepare. So if I have talked about women doing the household chores, why was there such a ruckus over the issue?

Women can pursue their careers. I have no problem with that. At least that is why they have studied. But what shall be the solution if both couple reaches late at home. Both are drained of energy. They seldom have energy to prepare food. And food is just the tip of the iceberg. There are many more things that people come across once they are married. What about the children? Do you hope to raise them in crèches? With the way we are heading towards neutral families we also ensure that there are no dadis and nanis to take care of your child. And then what about you? Drained of energy are you going to give your wife or husband the time and attention desired?

I know this has gone to serious note but really don’t know why I come to have so hard feelings for this issue. May be I too don’t have a solution in sight, and that’s why the frustration. If you have a solution, that which satisfies women’s need for independence, yet upholds the family, do share it with me. All ears to learn from you.

waiting for the comments.”