Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Incoherent Mutterings With A Stranger - Incident 3
I did not know it then, when I woke up in the morning, brushed my teeth, made myself a strong cup of tea, enjoyed every sip of it standing by my window, taking in the scenes. Well, to be honest, there isn't a "scene" to be viewed from my window. A number of homes (huts) are sprawled across a land which seemed smaller with each passing day. But, it did not bother me too much today. Today I was happy. Enthused. I had a job interview to face, to top, and to start getting paid from the following month (Pardon me for jumping the gun with those last two statements. But I was that confident. And c'mon you can't blame a guy for being confident now, can you?) So today I was not going to curse the municipality for never doing their duty just because the land comprised homes (huts) that were not very 'uptown' or the residents of the land for not understanding basic things like a level of hygiene was possible to maintain without help from the authorities. The boy being beaten by his father, the naked kid sitting right next to the gutters brimming with excreta, the flies feasting on food at a few road side food stalls did not upset me too much today. Strange isn't it, that when you are in buoyant spirits, the world's problems seem irrelevant, self inflicted even? Anyways, today even the rising crescendo which was a music mix right from hell with people yelling (actually they were just talking, but somehow we as a nation have developed a notion that raising our volume is the only way to convey that what we are trying to say holds weight. Who can blame us for developing this habit? We have a government and state authorities and the entire circus of bureaucrats !!! Enough said?!), the sounds of metal clanking from home bound industries, the sound of people walking and bargaining with vegetable vendors or the poultry guy, the sound of shopkeepers lifting their shutters mingled with the quaint sound of a bell tinkling in a bid to appease the God that meant business for steady business that day...everyday, the constant pleading of stray cattle, the occasional vendor introducing himself to this musical masterpiece with his unique, innovative sales pitch jingle, selling ready made eatables, cheap hosiery, plastic toys and even herbal medicines approved by themselves. Nothing. Nothing could bring me down today. I was soaring high, out of reach from the dirty, vermin infested claws of this land that surrounded me, even its smells and stench could not stick to my clothes today or get in my nostrils and pollute the air full of zest that I was breathing today.
I did not know it then, that when this day, today would end, all would be inconsequential.
So I was all ready to face the day. Dressed in my sharp, smart shirt and trousers with a tie that 'brought out the colour of my eyes (bluish green, they are bluish green, in case you are wondering what the colour of my eyes are). I had it planned almost 20 days in advance, when I received a call followed by an e-mail about me making it through to the final round of the interview, what I was going to wear. The colours, the fabric was not some random decision that I had taken. It was done considering the time I would be travelling (I wanted a fabric that would 'breathe' so that I don't turn up with ugly stinking patches of sweat under my arms), the rush in the local trains, which colour would best hide the stains that I was sure to get on them while travelling in a local. I had thought of everything. I was prepared.
The journey from my place, taking an auto-rickshaw, taking the local, getting down...all of this was like a blur in slow motion. I did not realize how the hour had passed, because I was busy framing possible questions in my mind and preparing the best possible answers to them. I was planning my entry into the room and how to impress those 4-5 people in that room, with my first greeting and smile, those 4-5 people who would congratulate me at the end of the meeting and say "we are fortunate to have found you and we are sure that your capabilities would help us a great deal." I had rehearsed my opening line well. After all I had 20 days to practice.
The blur in slow motion evaporated and re-emerged as one clear picture, the loud sounds of traffic outside the train station breaking the trance. I looked around for an auto-rickshaw, my ride for the day. I had decided that I would be generous today and give the auto-wallah a little extra. I was even thinking of asking him to wait for me till the interview got over, ofcourse, I would ask him to take the waiting charges. I was planning to go back home in the same auto-rickshaw. Yeah sure it would cost me nothing less than Rs. 200, but my days of keeping a record, miserly saving every and any penny that I could would be a thing of the past as soon as I walked out of that meeting room. My life was about to change, for the better today and I have to, at the risk of sounding brazen, admit that I felt like God and that I had the power to make this auto-wallah's day better by giving him money over and above the fare. I calculated quickly in my mind, "200 + something for the fare, an hours waiting charges, should be another say 70 - 80, lets round it up and keep it at hundred. That plus the 100 may be 150 that I would give him as a little extra. Oh! what the hell I would give him a 500 hundred note! Why be miserly. The poor thing could use that kind of money, I am sure!"
I had figured all this out in a matter of not more than 10 minutes while I stood there, looking, choosing whose day I was going to make better, who would be the one that I decide would have a 'lucky day'. Just then I spotted this old man. His auto was 'spit and polish' (or should that be spat and polished?)Anyways, you get the picture, right?
I got back to my mental calculations once again. Hardworking, yes. Sincere, yes. And he was old. He probably would appreciate and use the money better than most of his younger professional colleagues. Done. It has to be him. Is this how God feels? Is this how God decides, I thought with a beatific smile on my face. Wondering how I could see what kind of smile I had on my face? I was feeling like God, remember! I knew everything. If anything, I was only settling for less. A God settling for the smile of an angel!
I hailed and got his attention. He took a u-turn and braked right where I was standing. I bent down a little to have a better look at his face. I smiled. He did not smile back. Inspite of that, his face, his demeanor did not come across as harsh or rude to me. He had an almost kind face, and I though that it stayed kind, irrespective of whether he smiled or not. Or may be it was just me, 'high on happiness and loads of self-esteem' that day. The day could not have been more beautiful and no one could do any wrong today.
I told him the address, he nodded. I got in. The first few minutes were filled with silence. Then I decided to make things more cheery. Yes this was in continuance of me taking charge today and making it right for me and anyone else around me. Anyone whom I chose. I started with a simple question. 'What is your name?' He looked at me through the mirror at the top center of the auto and replied 'Naseeb'. I said. 'Wow, that is a beautiful name. It means fate, destiny, right!'. He looked at me again through the mirror and replied with a nod. After a very brief interlude between the nod and what I thought was a sigh, he said, 'That is what it means. If it is beautiful or not, that I cannot say. I cannot be the judge of that'. I found a little strange. A little disquieting, a little discomforting.
I asked him, 'Why do you say that?. He replied, 'Because it means different things to different people under different circumstances'. Okay, I confess. I had no clue what he was talking about or what he meant by that, but I smiled and nodded, looking at him through the mirror, pretending to convey that I knew exactly what he meant.
I decided to change the topic and improve the vibes. The air in the auto-rickshaw had gotten heavy all of a sudden. The air felt like the air from the land that was across my home. I tried to rise above it. I loosened my tie a bit. I tried to take my mind away. I spoke again, with an attempt to get over it. 'You know Naseeb, I have an interview today. It is the final round. It is a mere formality actually. That is where I am going. Life changes after this meeting, for the better. Finally!' I was smiling as I was saying this. He replied, 'Yes? Is that so.' His tone did not sound like a question. This was a tone with finality disguised as a question. Before I could respond, he said "You know I had a passenger like you sometime back. Young as you are. Sure as you are. You remind me of him. A lot". I replied, 'Yes? Is that so.' cheekily and smiled. He smiled as well. I continued, "So, tell me more about this person who was so much like me!" He replied, "Don't know. Met him just once that day. Strangely, he mentioned that he lived somewhere near where I always wait for customers. I never saw him again, after that day".
I thought about that, and said jokingly, "Well, happens. You know it is all a matter of Naseeb". He did not smile, but looked into my eyes, looking into the mirror, and replied "Yes. It is".
What happened after that was an ugly motley of a deafeningly loud horn, the rumble of metal colliding, the blood curling screech of tires on tar, the sickeningly faint sound of flesh getting ripped and bones getting crunched, the nauseous smell of blood mingling with that of fuel. A truck, apparently had lost control, jumped the lane and had headed straight towards our auto-rickshaw.I am not sure though what really happened. But I remember this vision clearly. I saw its iron clad bulky front, the metal plate with the devil's head painted on it, along with lemons and green chillies strung together, dangling in the front and then everything was black and a buzz in my ears. I could sense a crowd gathering around us. I could vaguely comprehend voices that seemed to be coming from very far off places. I mustered every bit of strength left in me and opened my eyes to see how Naseeb was. I saw him sitting in a corner with a few people gathered around him. He was sipping water from a bottle someone must have offered him. His clothes looked just the way they were when I got into his auto-rickshaw. He looked unhurt. Then I collapsed. It was all just black now. Even the buzzing sound in my ears had gone away.
I have been in a coma for the past 6 months, may be even 8. I am not sure. But today I know this one thing with a surety that is frightening and alleviating at the same time. A 500 rupee note does not make anyone a God.
I did not know it then, that when this day, today would end, all would be inconsequential.
So I was all ready to face the day. Dressed in my sharp, smart shirt and trousers with a tie that 'brought out the colour of my eyes (bluish green, they are bluish green, in case you are wondering what the colour of my eyes are). I had it planned almost 20 days in advance, when I received a call followed by an e-mail about me making it through to the final round of the interview, what I was going to wear. The colours, the fabric was not some random decision that I had taken. It was done considering the time I would be travelling (I wanted a fabric that would 'breathe' so that I don't turn up with ugly stinking patches of sweat under my arms), the rush in the local trains, which colour would best hide the stains that I was sure to get on them while travelling in a local. I had thought of everything. I was prepared.
The journey from my place, taking an auto-rickshaw, taking the local, getting down...all of this was like a blur in slow motion. I did not realize how the hour had passed, because I was busy framing possible questions in my mind and preparing the best possible answers to them. I was planning my entry into the room and how to impress those 4-5 people in that room, with my first greeting and smile, those 4-5 people who would congratulate me at the end of the meeting and say "we are fortunate to have found you and we are sure that your capabilities would help us a great deal." I had rehearsed my opening line well. After all I had 20 days to practice.
The blur in slow motion evaporated and re-emerged as one clear picture, the loud sounds of traffic outside the train station breaking the trance. I looked around for an auto-rickshaw, my ride for the day. I had decided that I would be generous today and give the auto-wallah a little extra. I was even thinking of asking him to wait for me till the interview got over, ofcourse, I would ask him to take the waiting charges. I was planning to go back home in the same auto-rickshaw. Yeah sure it would cost me nothing less than Rs. 200, but my days of keeping a record, miserly saving every and any penny that I could would be a thing of the past as soon as I walked out of that meeting room. My life was about to change, for the better today and I have to, at the risk of sounding brazen, admit that I felt like God and that I had the power to make this auto-wallah's day better by giving him money over and above the fare. I calculated quickly in my mind, "200 + something for the fare, an hours waiting charges, should be another say 70 - 80, lets round it up and keep it at hundred. That plus the 100 may be 150 that I would give him as a little extra. Oh! what the hell I would give him a 500 hundred note! Why be miserly. The poor thing could use that kind of money, I am sure!"
I had figured all this out in a matter of not more than 10 minutes while I stood there, looking, choosing whose day I was going to make better, who would be the one that I decide would have a 'lucky day'. Just then I spotted this old man. His auto was 'spit and polish' (or should that be spat and polished?)Anyways, you get the picture, right?
I got back to my mental calculations once again. Hardworking, yes. Sincere, yes. And he was old. He probably would appreciate and use the money better than most of his younger professional colleagues. Done. It has to be him. Is this how God feels? Is this how God decides, I thought with a beatific smile on my face. Wondering how I could see what kind of smile I had on my face? I was feeling like God, remember! I knew everything. If anything, I was only settling for less. A God settling for the smile of an angel!
I hailed and got his attention. He took a u-turn and braked right where I was standing. I bent down a little to have a better look at his face. I smiled. He did not smile back. Inspite of that, his face, his demeanor did not come across as harsh or rude to me. He had an almost kind face, and I though that it stayed kind, irrespective of whether he smiled or not. Or may be it was just me, 'high on happiness and loads of self-esteem' that day. The day could not have been more beautiful and no one could do any wrong today.
I told him the address, he nodded. I got in. The first few minutes were filled with silence. Then I decided to make things more cheery. Yes this was in continuance of me taking charge today and making it right for me and anyone else around me. Anyone whom I chose. I started with a simple question. 'What is your name?' He looked at me through the mirror at the top center of the auto and replied 'Naseeb'. I said. 'Wow, that is a beautiful name. It means fate, destiny, right!'. He looked at me again through the mirror and replied with a nod. After a very brief interlude between the nod and what I thought was a sigh, he said, 'That is what it means. If it is beautiful or not, that I cannot say. I cannot be the judge of that'. I found a little strange. A little disquieting, a little discomforting.
I asked him, 'Why do you say that?. He replied, 'Because it means different things to different people under different circumstances'. Okay, I confess. I had no clue what he was talking about or what he meant by that, but I smiled and nodded, looking at him through the mirror, pretending to convey that I knew exactly what he meant.
I decided to change the topic and improve the vibes. The air in the auto-rickshaw had gotten heavy all of a sudden. The air felt like the air from the land that was across my home. I tried to rise above it. I loosened my tie a bit. I tried to take my mind away. I spoke again, with an attempt to get over it. 'You know Naseeb, I have an interview today. It is the final round. It is a mere formality actually. That is where I am going. Life changes after this meeting, for the better. Finally!' I was smiling as I was saying this. He replied, 'Yes? Is that so.' His tone did not sound like a question. This was a tone with finality disguised as a question. Before I could respond, he said "You know I had a passenger like you sometime back. Young as you are. Sure as you are. You remind me of him. A lot". I replied, 'Yes? Is that so.' cheekily and smiled. He smiled as well. I continued, "So, tell me more about this person who was so much like me!" He replied, "Don't know. Met him just once that day. Strangely, he mentioned that he lived somewhere near where I always wait for customers. I never saw him again, after that day".
I thought about that, and said jokingly, "Well, happens. You know it is all a matter of Naseeb". He did not smile, but looked into my eyes, looking into the mirror, and replied "Yes. It is".
What happened after that was an ugly motley of a deafeningly loud horn, the rumble of metal colliding, the blood curling screech of tires on tar, the sickeningly faint sound of flesh getting ripped and bones getting crunched, the nauseous smell of blood mingling with that of fuel. A truck, apparently had lost control, jumped the lane and had headed straight towards our auto-rickshaw.I am not sure though what really happened. But I remember this vision clearly. I saw its iron clad bulky front, the metal plate with the devil's head painted on it, along with lemons and green chillies strung together, dangling in the front and then everything was black and a buzz in my ears. I could sense a crowd gathering around us. I could vaguely comprehend voices that seemed to be coming from very far off places. I mustered every bit of strength left in me and opened my eyes to see how Naseeb was. I saw him sitting in a corner with a few people gathered around him. He was sipping water from a bottle someone must have offered him. His clothes looked just the way they were when I got into his auto-rickshaw. He looked unhurt. Then I collapsed. It was all just black now. Even the buzzing sound in my ears had gone away.
I have been in a coma for the past 6 months, may be even 8. I am not sure. But today I know this one thing with a surety that is frightening and alleviating at the same time. A 500 rupee note does not make anyone a God.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Saturday, October 2, 2010
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