A pinch of salt to enhance the taste !!

 

My sister and I were discussing yesterday, about the excessive use of abusive language and cuss words in OTT serials. My sister was saying that all these serials can definitely be made without using such foul language ‘in a better way’. Thinking about this made my memories jog to yesteryears. (as it has in many of my recent posts)

The days of childhood and early teenhood. It was a time when cuss words (Gaali – in Hindi) was a way of talking to friends. It was a language in itself with a judicious mix of sharp words thrown with varying degrees of intensity and voice modulations. Like animals make different sounds with their voice box to depict different emotions (A dog for example- barks, whines, growls to express different emotional states - anger, sadness and ferocity respectively.) ; gaalis were ‘thrown’ in different ways to express anger, hatred, laughter, evilness and even sadness at times. Cuss words were used as all figures of speech and in each of its forms as well. It could be in place of a noun, pronoun, verb, adverb, adjective and as a noun form, verb form, adjective form etc. In fact, when talking to friends, each sentence used to have atleast two cuss words. A true friend was one with whom you could talk this way and neither of you felt anything much about it later on and neither one was offended in any way. It was a very normal way of talking to each other.  

And of course, you had full control over it – never used to be uttered in front of parents, teachers, elders or girls. At the time, we used to think that girls are generally not knowledgeable in this kind of vocabulary. I know better now. They do know all of it. They just don’t think it is prudent or feminine to express it so openly.

As we grow older, our environments change and the time you spend with friends is ‘replaced’ by time you spend in office with colleagues and seniors and with your family. It is not ‘conducive’ then to speak such foul language openly. Hence you mellow down. You even come to a point where you don’t like it. And of course, you would teach your kids not to pick up such things from their friends. 

But somewhere there is a child in everyone of us, who is still out on the ground playing cricket with his friends and swearing loudly at each and every one of them……!! 😊

Coming back to OTT serials, I partly agree with my sister that it doesn’t need to be there – THAT MUCH. But it shouldn’t be totally censored. Because even swearing is an art. Imagine if you were really angry and swearing at somebody in a very flat monotone. It would have no effect, no power in the expression at all. The person would kiss you rather than being very angry at you for abusing them !!

For me, the fact is I really enjoy a series if it has its fair share of abusive language and cussing – not too much, but a little bit of it. Used with the right timing and intensity, it gives a very powerful effect to a dialogue!!

As a metaphor - just a pinch of salt is enough to enhance the taste of the dish exponentially…..      

Frisbee - the boomerang

 During our days as kids, some games were seasonal for us (My friends and I). And others were like a fad coming in during a time and then going out eventually.  

We played football during monsoons, cricket at other times. Hide and seek, catch and cook never went out of season. We always played, but eventually as we got older it stopped as it was considered for-the-younger-kids kind of game. There was a game called fielding in which we threw the ball hard on a big wall. It rebounded and the person in whose direction it went had to stop it before it rolled to the boundary. It went out after a few years. One-tip cricket was a rage when we were in college. We used to play under a street light pole, which was basically the stumps. At the time, not many cars were parked on the streets, so the streets were relatively free for us to play !! Eventually we stopped that too. (We lost our space to the cars which were parked near the street light pole AND a speed braker was built near it too as if someone from the road department had decided not to let us play !!)

Another such ‘fad’ during our college days was ‘frisbee’. This is what this post is about – the frisbee. I think we first started playing frisbee when our fifth semester engineering exams started!! There was this huge gap of 3-4 days between two exams, so obviously, since we studied only on the last day, the rest of the days were treated more of a ‘normal leave’ than a ‘study leave’. Someone had this idea of playing a relaxing game, instead of something like cricket, which could give us finger injuries !! So frisbee started.

There is a garden in front of my house. We all played there. Playing frisbee is total bliss. Kind of a very liberating feeling !!

Believe me, there are people who cannot throw a frisbee well !! Most of my friends and I did pretty well. When thrown well, it glides beautifully and gracefully. You can throw it straight, fast or slow. You can throw it along the ground so that it just drifts over the grass. You can throw it at an angle upwards or downwards. You can make it just skim (bounce) the ground and rise rapidly again !! You can even make it boomerang back to you or throw it at a steep sideways angle, so that it soars sideways but lands in front - perfectly in a person’s hands !!

Catching a frisbee too gives you a super feeling !! You can catch it with your wrists turned either way. You can catch it side on or in front. You can time your jump or dive to catch. Frisbee catches when taken are as amazingly stylish and satisfying to watch as they are to take !!  And while it doesn’t take very high skills to either throw or catch a frisbee, a reasonable amount of dexterity and nimble footedness is definitely required. Even dogs love to play it !!

All in all a superb game. So one of my old friends was saying that he played frisbee today right after those days. So I threw a frisbee at a high steep upward angle into my memory and those memories came back to me like a boomerang!!

My journey and the start of a new innings

 

I always think that the hours to go before the time you actually reach the airport are the worst in terms of emotional state for everyone – including the one who is travelling away for a long time and also his family and folks. Its not that bad for the latter, as they have each other, something the former does not once he is abroad !!

Anyway, check in and the rest of things took 2 and a half hours, so that by the time I was at the boarding gate, people had already started boarding !!

Schipol wasn’t bad at all – for me. (After reading facebook forums, I had prepared myself for things like – long long queues to passport control, baggage or baggage not arriving at all, or anything else that may be the case. But because I was prepared, I guess I was out in a little over half an hour !! (Murphy’s law). It was a feeling of nostalgia as I came to the familiar old red checkered square which is called as 'the meeting point'. I was back here the same way in 2013, but with my friend and colleague.  

After thinking and thinking whether to catch a taxi – which was OUTSIDE the airport or whether to go by train, I finally froze ‘Train’. The taxi would’ve cost me half my flight ticket to Amsterdam and so my sense of adventure kicked in, I bought a train ticket and dragged two big wheelies weighing about 23 Kgs each along with a handbag and backpack weighing around 12 Kgs together into the elevator that took me to the Schiphol NS station. I felt like a soldier carrying a light artillery weapon and dragging his sack alongwith it !! The train arrived and I quickly loaded the luggage in the train. The train was to leave in just a minute !! Choosing to sit on the seats by the door, I rearranged everything so that it wouldn’t come in the way of anyone. As I settled down, I heard the announcement that the train would start a little later, as there was some problem !! It started a full 10 minutes later and I wondered whether I would miss the connection train !! I wouldn’t have worried if I was without any luggage, but then WITH it was a different concern !!

Luckily, I got the connection equally easily. I reached my destination after a full 2 hours. That wasn’t bad at all. After getting down at the destination station, a lady asked me if I needed help with the luggage. I politely refused, but thanked her. Coming out of the station, I dragged all my luggage another half a km to my new home. Even half a km seemed to be an eternity. The housing agent was there with the keys, right on time. She showed me around the house, got my signature on the inspection sheet and left. (after all it was a Sunday !!). My wife had packed some stuff for lunch and I gobbled it up quickly. After some sleep and a chat with home, I got outside to buy stuff – Milk, cheese, bread and all.

After this, time has simply whooshed by. I had thought of writing a post immediately upon arriving, delayed it to the second week and then the second month and now I'm almost 3 months here !!

All this time, Ive had a lot of fun – making new friends, meeting the old, doing a new kind of work and settling down in a new life and weather !! I decided to finally post this post, so that I could move on with more posts !! This post was like a barrier which I had decided to post before any others !! Now that its out of the way - the road is clear !! 

The glory and fun of flying

 I checked in my 15 kg bags with a huge relief and collected my boarding pass. The first 'hurdle' was over. I shuffled over to the security counter, put my laptop and other belongings on the tray and stood like in Titanic pose on the small platform while the the security check officer ran the metal detector probe over my arms and body.

With sleepy and watery eyes, I went over to the immigration check. Looking at the customs officer like a zombie, I answered his routine questions and was cleared. Relieved, I went towards my boarding terminal looking around at the colourful shops and the colourful people. A little girl around 4-5 years of age called her mother from a distance. I was reminded of my daughter back at home. 

I sat in the waiting area at the boarding gate. My flight was at 12.30 am and I was off to Africa for a long rotation of 3 months of a company assignment after a beautiful holiday back in india. Sitting down on a waiting seat, I thought about the people back home and generally about people who like many others were back from office after a long day and enjoying dinner with family, happily chatting and laughing away at the 'events of the day narrations' !! All comfortable, satisfied with a full stomach and at being back home with their family finally. They will finish dinner and go and lie on a flat bed to sleep comfortably and wake up fresh for another day. My tired eyes watered even more at the thought. Here I was, at the airport having cleared all formalities, but the prospect of a long journey ahead, that too in the claustrophobic interiors of an airplane, where the only thing you can look forward to is the take off and the landing. And then after the travel part is over, a loneliness of being away from your family in a faraway land. It does require time to get used to, but yeah, those are the initial feelings. Especially if you are travelling for a long assignment.

When I was young, my father was an 'emerging executive' in a big company. He used to frequently travel, but for a few days each time. I remember feeling proud of him when he used to break the news that he is going to travel to a particular country. My sister and I used to be all excited at this news and used to keep our 'lists' so that he shops accordingly !! 

He had a passport with the visa stamps from a lot of countries. I used to scroll through those pages in awe. On the day of travel, he used to pack his bags, put on his formal shirt, trousers and a blazer. Passport in his pocket and polished shoes shining like a mirror, with a wheelie bag, he used to be off. Most of the times we were there to drop him off at the airport. The airport was very posh. His colleagues and he were all very formal looking. Back then, I used to think that it must be 'fun' apart from a 'glorious' and very 'official' way to travel - by an aeroplane. At the time, it was relatively rare for people from middle class to travel by airway. So if someone in the family travelled by flight - that too internationally - it was a matter of prestige and elite. 

Mostly, when dad returned, I used to go with my mother and grandparents to pick up my father at the airport. Standing by the handrails at the arrival terminal, I used to eagerly wait, trying to keep an eye on every person coming out. Finally, the familiar figure used to wave out at us. The same crisp blazer and the same high polish shoes while returning too !! His trolley used to be laden with plastic bags of gifts, toys and chocolates from duty free. There were more gifts inside those wheelies too !!

These days everything is available in India, so much so that whenever you go to another country, you might actually try to find something unique to buy, but finally end up bringing just souvenirs !! 

As years passed, Dad's arrival at the airport became routine, even boring, waiting at the arrival terminal. Dad rose in the organization and his travel became more and more frequent. In general too - flying became more and more common in India over the years. 

The whole flying affair just sort of lost its 'glory' in my mind !! As we grew up, toys were no longer our enjoyment factor  and shopping abroad became only the souvenirs and chocolates.  

More recently, even chocolates from all over the world are available in India !! When I finally flew abroad on my first official visit, I understood that flying isnt that 'posh' and 'enjoyable' or 'official' always. I fully understood what dad went through all those years. Frequent travel isnt exactly a bed of roses and you actually miss out on what your folks at home are enjoying the night that you travel - a time with family and flat bed to sleep peacefully !!      

School reopening and return of the monsoons

 In those days, monsoons started in the month of June. By the time, school reopened for the new academic year, even the skies used to mourn - turning several shades darker, hiding the sun. In turn, we boys used to mourn going to school after 2 months of our summer holidays. From playing all day to studying all day (Exaggeration intended. I have never studied all day.). From sleeping whenever we felt like, to sleeping whenever our parents instructed to. From eating raw mangoes and rai awlas, to eating healthy food. From being pampered by our grandparents back in native place to being disciplined by our parents. It was a return from Shangri-la and an entry into the dark and smelly school corridors. (I say dark and smelly, not because our school was unclean or anything. Only that it was relatively dark during rainy weather when school started and the combination of smells from the wet and dry socks of around 5 dozen kids smelled like sewage. Sorry for being so gross about it, but it was !!).

Some kids enjoyed returning to school. We used to call these kids as weirdos. From me and almost all my friends, love of going to school was a heinous crime and looking happy at the thought of going to school was a punishable offence !! I hated going to school, I hated going to college and I hate going to the office also !!

Returning back to the point, monsoons are wet as the ocean in Mumbai. If it starts raining, it seems like an eternity before it stops. And it rains hard. Children used to wear full raincoats. Most of us wanted their parents to buy them gumboots. I never got gumboots. My parents always bought me sandals. I used to crib at this at the time. Later I realized that, I am one of the few, who is not contributing towards the gross smell.  Also, those gumboots pick up water. Its like standing in puddles of water. You have to remove and overturn them, so that the water is drained away. Splashing and sploshing, we used to make our way to school from home. Outside the gate of our assembly hall, muddy footprints were all over. Obviously, there was a lot of slipping and sliding. The assembly hall was open at the sides and the sound of our assembly prayers was dampened by the noise of rain, pattering down the ground and crashing down the metal shades. When it was time to go upstairs to the classroom, it was again through the wet footprinted stairs. In the classroom, every now and then, we had to close the windows as children who sat near the windows used to get sprayed by rainwater ocassionally. On returning from school, some evenings were lost sitting at home, since it rained so much that one could not go out to play. Sometimes, however, my mother used to make paper boats with me and we used to place them in the large puddles of water, enjoying seeing the boat making off to far away downstream. Also, it was fun, when my mother made some hot ‘taakatla sabudana’ or something hot like ‘wada pav’ was bought. During monsoons, there used to be frequent power cuts all over the town due to rain. All of us (My colony friends and I) used to come downstairs for a chat, if it was late evening time. A return of power was almost always accompanied by a loud cheer from all over town. Sleep time used to come pretty soon, with me and my sister cuddling up to our mother, while my father used to read a book and go to sleep.

Im just re-living those days of monsoons back in school via this post. These days, I look forward to the monsoons, since it gives us that slight relief in terms of soaring temperatures. Rains do not come in June. It comes in July at the least. My daughter goes to school very happily. So a lot has changed. One thing hasn’t which is…..personally I don’t feel like going to office in monsoons to this day !!     

Fear of the mechanic

 The guy slowly raised his eyebrows so that they were as far up as they could be. Peeling his eyes from the screen of my ipad, he looked at me slowly, with a suspicious look on his face. I was too familiar with the look and had received it umpteen times from – mechanics, repairman, IT people in office and even doctors at times.

The screen of my Ipad started flickering a few weeks back, probably due to overuse, overheat or maybe someone just sat on it!! I tried a few solutions on it - youtube hacks, giving it a sharp rap, banging it on the pillow and lastly, tried the best solution there ever is to any gadget – restart it.

Nothing worked, screen was still flickering. My daughter was woeful. After all, internet, phones and screen gadgets are the life of kids these days. I took pity on my daughter’s ‘situation’ and went out to the electronics repair store and showed my iPad to the ‘guy’ mentioned above. He connected it to the charger and turned it on (It was turned off by me after trying a ‘shutoff and switch on’ routine.).

When he turned it on, the screen came alive, perfectly ok, no flicker, no hint of fading light, no darkness on the edges, no ‘ghosts’ – thereby the suspicious look on his face.

Like a little kid trying to justify a naughty prank, I told him “It was flickering at home, don’t know what happened to it here.” “Maybe it just started working after you checked it. Aap se darr gaya woh” He smirked and said ok sir.        

I’m sure it has happened with all of us. Whenever a gadget goes awry and we call a repairman to fix it or take it to a repairman, it works perfectly in front of him. In that way a gadget is similar to a young child, who is all mischievous in front of folks at home, but SO well behaved in front of outsiders!!

Let alone gadgets. I have had such situations with myself and the doctors as well. The day I decide to visit the doctor for an illness, I start feeling well and by the time I am at the physician’s clinic, it seems pointless being there at all. Even doctors have given me the same suspicious, quizzical look as that of the repairman.

To narrate another story - Once my bike lost ignition and stopped. I was stuck on the main road. The mechanic was somewhat far from the place (Past a signal junction and a ‘U-turn’). I tried the kick start, the electric start - with and without the choke. Also tried jump starting it (after seeing a youtube video in the middle of the road !!). Finally there was no other solution, than to push it to the garage. I reached the garage, walking, trotting, even running while pushing the bike. By the time I reached the garage, I was soaking with sweat and panting like a dog. I told the mechanic what had happened. He said ok, put the bike on centre stand, turned the key and kicked the start. The engine fired to life – he pulled at the throttle and it whirred. Then looking at me, he smiled. Here I had pushed the bike for about a kilometer and a half, sweated like a pig from the effort of it to get it to a garage, where this guy had started it in a jiffy without even opening up the engine !! It was like a mockery of my efforts !! Unreasonable, but for this reason, I was kind of angry on the mechanic for starting the engine at all !! 😊

Why it happens, god knows? But it does and lots of times.  

So, guess it means that mechanics, repairman and doctors are all necessary to put things right and work well again and sometimes even fear or presence of them is sufficient !!   

Nina Pretty Ballerina

Every day in the morning on her way to the office
You can see her as she catches a train
Just a face among a million faces
Just another woman with no name.....

Friday evening she turns out to be...

Nina, pretty ballerina, now she is the queen of the dancing floor
This is the moment she's waited for.......

Nina, pretty ballerina, who would ever think she could be this way
This is the part that she likes to play
But she knows the fun would go away
If she would play it every day

So she's back every morning to her work at the office
And another week to live in a dream
And another row of early mornings
In an almost never-ending stream
Doesn't talk very often, kind of shy and uncertain
Everybody seems to think she's a bore
But they wouldn't know her little secret
What her Friday night would have in store...........

-Credits ABBA song: Nina pretty ballerina  (Disclaimer - It is not my song, I didnt write the lyrics...I do not own any of it.) I'd say, please hear the song / read the full lyrics first before reading on....as without hearing the song, the post may seem to be meaningless. The links are given below. 

But.....just love to hear it. I can relate to it. In fact plenty of us can relate to it. Inside of office / working hours, as a whole, we are all dedicated, no-nonsense, serious....no laughter in the meeting rooms, no casual behaviour in front of the top brass... professionals....no fooling around....

Outside of it - we are different than it. All of us have some talents, some desires, some hobbies, some vices....(This is for most of us. There are odd ones everywhere.). Its like being in two different worlds, in a parallel universe. But that is the way it is and rightfully so...as the fourth para goes....'...She knows the fun would go away if she would play it every day.....' 

And then my favourite one....the last para....'...Doesn't talk very often, kind of shy and uncertain, Everybody seems to think she's a bore, But they wouldn't know her little secret, What her Friday night would have in store...........' 

Some people aren't just DIFFERENT in the outside world....they TRANSFORM - meaning their personality changes totally - like the Nina in the song. 

I remember a driver who was in my father's employ for many years. He was a total professional, always well dressed, very polite, spoke to the point, never quite engaged in casual chat either. But once I saw him in a parking lot with his friends - totally different, all high fiving, doing little jigs and talking and laughing loudly. 

A very different example would be Sachin Tendulkar - quiet, shy and conservative in his interactions, especially in his younger days (who remembers his interview with Tom Alter?) But on the field, he was in his element, fierce and blasting the opposition to smithereens with his batting. (Of course, Sachin's case is  different in that he was that way in his 'work' :))

I tag everyone who reads this blog to comment in the 'comments' section to write about one such 'Nina' whom they can think of when they hear the song? For those who havent heard the song, please hear it below is the youtube link 

Nina Pretty Ballerina by ABBA  

For lyrics, following is the link:

Nina Pretty Ballerina lyrics  

The shore of luck.

 Happens with everyone I guess, but there are phases in life which are so bad and cruel to you, that you feel like you are falling into an endless pit. No success, no rays of light, no hope, no way out. And situations where you're either mistreated or insulted or feel victimized all the time. People dont understand you and dont care about you or your sound logical advice. Its like you are in the continuous presence of a dementor (read Harry Potter books to understand what it means.). Whatever you do fails, wherever you invest, there is loss and wherever you go is a dead end. Funniest part is the moment you start thinking that  you have had enough or when you feel that things have quietened down a bit, there comes a full barrage again. As if someone has called in for an air strike on you. Its like being hydrotested (not in a mood to explain technical terms. Read this one on the internet.) 

What can you do? Nothing. Period. Try all you want. In this phase, nothing works. The sooner you realise that you are going through this phase the better it is. Move, dodge, duck and let go of situations. Just dont take anything head on. Ride the tide. Just see to it that the boat doesnt capsize - that is dont lose your confidence, dont lose your wits.  Its difficult, but it is what it is and its there to stay for sometime atleast. Sit tight, sit it through and you will reach the shore of luck. 

And then as human nature goes, when you do reach the shore of luck, you wont even remember the nightmarish phase.     

   

Majhi Aaji

17th February 2022 -  morning started as usual. Morning tea, office work, breakfast etc. But then my mother called up with a 'hard to believe' news for me. Aaji had passed away. You may say why would this be a 'hard to believe' news. Old people do pass away. Especially at an age of 87, it is only a matter of time, even to those who are in the best of health. But when someone this close passes away, it is really hard to believe for the loved ones. 

My oldest memories of Aaji start with me going to their place in pune every summer holidays. Aaji, Ajoba and mama were my favourite family !! Ajoba was the disciplinarian types but used to buy us sweets and used to take us out to eat. Mama was the sportsman and used to take us to the ground every evening, where I used to jog and play. Aaji used to shower all her love on me, used to give me whatever I wanted and used to reprimand my mother for reprimanding me !! Her everyday cooking was so good, I swear by her 'Chinch gul Amti' to this day. Eat as much as you want and exercise / play as much as you can, she used to tell me - this was the secret ingredient to her health. I used to feel most comfortable in discussing my thoughts and feelings with her. She too confided everything in me. 

I remember her narrating her childhood memories. One of my favourite, goes like this .....

Aaji's mother used to tie her to the window since she was extremely active, mischievous and used to bully kids of the neighbourhood. This was confirmed once by my grand-aunt (grandmother's elder sister), who also said that the kids used to drop whatever they were playing and run away at the sight of my grandmother coming out of the house !! My grand-aunt had also said that once 'leeli' (My grandmother's pet name (maiden name was Leela).) had asked her to face the wall and when she did, had pulled her legs from underneath her causing my grand aunt to hurt herself badly. No one who had seen her in adult life, would ever imagine that this very kind lady was once the cause of terror in the neighbourhood !!  

My aaji and I played cards a lot during those summer holidays. Rummy and ek-shey-aath being our favourite card games. When Ajoba wanted to play with us (rare occassion), aaji used to tell him jokingly, "Naka khelu tumhi. Bhayankar wel laavta khelayla" and used to smile at me. This was  also rare - Aaji telling Ajoba off. She used to give me a bath everyday herself till the time I was atleast 10 years old !! The song she sang during my bath went like this......"Jai Gange jai bhagirathi, jai jai ram, dasharati...."    

I remember waiting happily for Aaji at our city's bus depot, bouncing at the thought that she and Ajoba would be here for a few days now. Each time a ST bus came into the depot, I used to ask aai whether this is the one that Aaji is in. She used to love the Apna Bazar near our place - atleast one trip during their visit was fixed. 

When it was time for her to return to pune (or in my case, return from pune), I used to cry a lot, clinging on to her and begging her and Ajoba not to go. More than once, I remember them staying back a couple of days more. Almost at all times, aaji was also in tears while parting. 

She herself was a very healthy individual and was regular in her lifestyle and habits. She used to do pranayam regularly and went on walks, lately only inside the campus - but everyday. Her meal times were regular and she used to eat almost a 'measured' quantity of food per meal. She loved 'Shira', a sweet dish that is made in quite a few parts of India. Till the last day, she was mobile, moving on her feet and could even touch her head on her knees while sitting !! (Something which my 6 year old cannot do !!) 

In later years, she took great care of Ajoba when he was bedridden. The day he died she went into a kind of shock and later on kept on telling me to ask Ajoba if he requires anything. In a hope to put an end to her shocked state, I tried telling her in a loud and aggravated voice that he is no more and she should stop saying this. "He is gone aaji and he will not come back now." I remember almost yelling at her. I think she perceived Ajoba's death as the end of the purpose of her existence as well - at the time atleast !! Slowly she started returning back to normal. 

I used to visit her and call her every now and then. Last year, I had stayed with her for a couple of weeks. I met her last month when I was here in Pune and it was the last time that I did. She used to tell me every now and then that all her grandchildren and children are the best in the world and that she is proud of them !! I am glad she saw all her grandchildren and her great grandchildren hale and hearty !!

A grandparent's love is unconditional and the relation is like no other. Aaji meant as much as my mother to me. Her loss cannot be expressed in words and I wont try it either.     

This post may not be properly written, but it does bring back my aaji to me at least for the time I am writing the post. And as I try to conclude the post unwillingly, it feels like aaji is going back to pune again, leaving me in tears. Sure, it will be back to life as usual for me - I have her blessings. As for aaji, hopefully she is in peace wherever she is, somewhere up there, watching over me, and in the meantime having a chat with Ajoba !! 

People may come and go,

But memories of them stay,

Their blessings keep us strong, 

Till death take us away.