Lessons from a cashless day! :)

It was really late when I realized that money in my pocket was really scarce. I usually take the 11 0 clock bus from my campus, Lavale to the city. It was 10.55, I was in my room and I had to rush to catch my bus. I left the OMG messy room, wore my sandals and ran, only to realize that by the time I reached outside my hostel, my sandal was broken from the sole… there was no time to return otherwise I would have missed my bus. So I ran to the bus and finally made it to the city. On the way I was thinking about my balance.. A hundred rupees and some ten rupees chillar.. Basically I spend around 125 rupees everyday only on travel… how would I manage today? What about my lunch? What shall I do? If I take the auto now... I won’t be able to come back. So after much deliberation I decide to take the Pune State Transport bus, because it is cheap! I walked down to the University bus station and waited for 15 minutes before getting the bus to the Railway Station … You see my office is at MG Road and there are no direct buses till that place, so I waited and waited and finally the bus arrived… it was stuffy, people were hanging out and the bus driver didn’t look like he wanted anyone to get in… I literally ran (my shoes didn’t help) and for the firs time in my life I jumped on a moving bus.. ( I couldn’t afford to miss this one) The bus ride was equally interesting… there was hardly any place to stand... I saw men every where and I felt like someone will steal my wallet from my bag… so I quietly hung near the driver, clutching my jute ka jhola… with every break that the bus took I felt I would fall no every other guy. … Finally I managed to station myself against two girls so that even if I fell it wouldn’t be the other gender! God, I was never so shy of my feminity ! J Some twenty minutes of struggling… Seeing people from all walks of life...a maid, a sales person, college students, school kids, working women and men, old men and frustrated bus conductor, the Railway Station finally arrived. I asked the conductor rather diffidently, if I should get down here for MG Road.To my utter surprise, he helped! He said, no… get down to the depot and walk to another bus stop, and then get a bus from there…I walked… and at the other bus stop waited for another 15 minutes. Buses came and went. People stood and boarded their buses.. Some looked at me weirdly, while some smiled, some even helped.. After realizing that I was rather late I took an auto to MG road.. Thankfully I had to pay him just 13 rupees… which meant that I had spent only 18 rupees till now.. Including the 5 rupee for bus ride.. Everyday I spend around 55 rupees just getting to my workplace… I got down the auto as tired as an old man. My legs felt heavy but I felt good… Why must I feel good I thought? I hadn’t even started the day and I looked tired. I had dressed up neatly for office but now I looked shabby (my kurta all creases and my hair all radically unkempt) but I still felt good. My dad would put money in my ATM and by the evening I would be flourishing with cash again… But millions of people in my country struggle even for food. I didn’t feel good that I was better off, I felt good that I had had a chance of seeing life like this. My internship has made me go to places which I would never have stepped in- stuffy buses, chauls, and footpaths with little children begging…. I have seen life the other way – the harder life, I was glad I just had to see it, not be a part of it. I know its rather sad of me to say that I felt good not being a part of this mess, but I seriously felt glad that I was wearing an American earring, was carrying a 150 rupees diary, a proud ATM card, a driving license and a voter’s id card. I even had a sunscreen lotion, an IPOd, two mobiles. I was a lucky bitch. Nothing more. For all I know, I could ‘ve been born somewhere else and may be, be a part of that mess. I could have been anything. Today, a cashless day, taught me life’s hardest lesson – to appreciate the little gifts that life passes on our way.

FROZEN

What do you do when you feel miserable inside? Lash it out to someone? And what do you do when you know you are wrong? How do you mend it? How do you make things fine? How to find a way out? How?

I received the call with a smile, and 1.5 hours later when I put the phone down, my heart was heavy. Madonna was singing , 'Frozen' , was I frozen too? Should I sing aloud, do I knock on my friend's door and cry out to her? Do I go off to sleep? Do I forget everything and move on... What should I do?

"You only see what your eyes want to see, how can life be what you want it to be.."

It kept playing in the background long after I had slept.... and my dream had a strange clarity about it, it was light and my head was heavy....Or was I heavy too?

Memoirs of Geisha - A fine read...

The part of life that touches us the most intimately are I would say the barest of all.

We conceal so much within while it's all there- spilled across at your face.

Memoirs of Geisha was a fine read, I sipped it slowly like I was having a sake myself and by the time it finished I felt I had lived a life in an Okiyo as a geisha, going through all waht Chiyo had gone through... I even felt I underwent a mitzyu, while I know very well that it was just a book. But I must confess, nothing has ever consumed me so much as this book has.

'I tried to flee my misery, but of course we can never flee the misery that is within us...'

And then the last line made me smile. I udnerstood what it means when Hilary Duff says - " Sooner than you think , life turns around..."

and I understood wht Arthur Golden chose to end it this way - "...all too soon they bleed inot a wash, just like watery ink on paper..."

I understood.

:)

CLASS DISMISSSED!!!

“The paths of the images never meet…” blurted out the Prof…

The paths in my mind never meet sir. He carries on. Overlooking the podium, he continues.

I take a scan across the room.

Nodding heads, drowsy eyes, crumpled news sheets, adroitness at making notes, confused eyes, sleeping minds, blank feelings and oh, the lecture ends!

The randomness around is striking, and it carries on…and now that the power (no power)-point (no point) attraction is annulled, eyes start meeting eyes-

Across the benches,

Across the room,

Above the benches,

Below the benches,

Diagonal, straight, curves and burps!

“How much time do we have?” says the lone-face in the crowd – the faculty…

“ Half an hour”, a dreamy mouth replies.

Planning begins… Dev D? Sree? Film Cameras? Shutter Speed? Coffee bite? Mung Aya? ISO? Master the art of clicking? Blah..blah..

Ramblings ramble on…

Class Dismissed!!

ELEGY OF AN ASPIRING JOURNALIST

So I wanted to stand up for a cause. Witty, to the point, suave, sensitive, courageous and not at all feeble minded that’s what I thought a khaki clad journo was like. The memories from my one news channel days only made me feel a sense of respect for professionals from this field. And so when I had to make a choice I went for it.

Post high school I went in for an arts graduation. 3 years of my graduating life I breathed about getting into a top notch j-school and getting into my world. The world where, as a prominent newspaper ad says, “Where there is light.” I wanted to be in the light. Not the light of breaking news ( oh they feel so clichéd now!!!) not about some mega star getting a tattoo, not about marriages , not about stupid fights, not about men giving birth to babies!!!! But about the power that pen beholds. My dreamy eyes never saw that the journalists are making news, not finding them. They aren’t the lighthouses of the society, no more.

And here I stand on the foothills of entering into a brand new world. But alas I can never be a good journalist… my feeble eyes can never understand why an Indian WWF player has such strong feet… what does he eat and cook…. I can never realize the strength that a story holds, what aura it has to move the nation… I can never devote my self to those cricketing demi-gods, who lose their worship as soon as they lose a match.. they fall to a bottomless abysmal as soon as they climb the pinnacle of godliness… how can I recognize what an effect it holds on my nation, on people… alas I have no skills whatsoever .

This elegy is then written by an aspiring already dead journalist… at least I can still wonder on the oxymoron…

MA’S LESSONS FOR LIFE

Ma, that was the first thing that came to my mind, as I sat there alone at the platform... dad had just left for my home town... I was in a new place, a new city…A destination that I had chosen for myself… I thought about a hundred things… about my new hostel... about my internship that was going to begin the next day, and I found myself coming back to Ma…

Back at home I had struggled with her, packing in things… in the afternoon I managed to have a siesta… While my Ma meticulously wrote out a list of things she had packed and what to find where…She had woken me up an hour and a half later, with cookies and a hot cup of tea… and we sat down in our garden… talking about how fast life moves on..

We had then moved over to other things, jumping from topic to topic, talking about a hundred million things.

My chain of thoughts got disconnected when I saw a newspaper vendor saying something to me in Kannada… I looked up, tears almost welling in my eyes and hastily bought a magazine from him and realized it was time to move on…

By the time I FOUND MY WAY out of the station, it was dark… I hurriedly took an auto and murted out confidently the new address that I would be unwinding at everyday from now on…

On my way back I wondered about the next day… I reached my hostel and next day with a churning stomach and truck full of anxiety reached my new office… I saw people, who quickly metamorphosed into monsters for me...but safely and happily I sailed through the day.. and also through the internship. I learnt a lot. it was no coincidence that I was returning back home on Mother’s day… my two months away had taught me one very important thing… as I saw my mom’s pretty face at the platform eagerly waiting to see me, I gave one of my most amazing smiles - never did I feel more proud. Staying away had taught me how well my ma had brought us up… each day I automatically followed what she had always taught us. More so, because in this new city with no one around I missed my home… and miraculously Ma’s life’s lessons were a strength for me…

I got up with a smile and no matter how bad the day was, slept with one too…

Ma – my cornerstone, my powerhouse, my cereal and my cuppa coffee, three cheers to you!

Happy Mother’s Day!

Why the coloured strip?

It was one of those animated movies that I saw in which the protagonist calls life a painted rainbow. I was amazed at the line, and quite frankly it has stuck to my mind since then... I believe life is a painted rainbow... You can splash reds and yellows from your palette and make it lively or add more of violet to make it sophisticated, or tinkle a glint of gold and make it shine. You can, make your life the way you desire. You can paint it the way you want.. This blog is just going to be a reflection of the ever-amusing life, its eccentricities, its complications and finally its never-say-die attitude - to find a coloured strip, anywhere, somewhere, everywhere... A toast to the mystery called life!