Gaylord

There was a time not so long ago when there was peace and tranquility everywhere, when sparrows chirped on your window sill to greet you good morning, when eating out was reserved for an occasion, when mail meant a letter and when the now ubiquitous word “GAY” had a completely different connotation.
It used to be normal for a guy to state “I am in a very GAY mood today”, without any one twitching an eyelid over this remark of his. This was a time when “GAY” literally meant “to be a good state of mind/mood, to be in bright spirits”.
But today its meaning has not only changed drastically, but this seemingly innocent 3 letter word has become one of the most powerful words in English language. It can make or break a government, a marriage, a friendship or perhaps start a war.
I accept that usage of many words has changed over the decades. Like Awful, at one time meant ‘full of awe’ i.e. something wonderful, delightful, and amazing. However, over time it has evolved to mean exactly the opposite. But the evolution of this particular 3 letter word (that is under scrutiny here) into this time-bomb really fascinates me.
Today, any sentence that has the word “GAY” in it gets heads rolling; it can set people in motion, you can both get a smile or a frown from the person sitting next to you.
Today a mother’s worst nightmare is not if her son would turn out to be a jobless wretch but rather this:
Son: “Mommy, I want you to meet Ted.”
Mom: “Hi, Ted. How are you?”
Ted: I am very well, thank you.
Son: “Mommy, Ted is my boyfriend and I want to marry him”.
Mom: (Wails like a banshee and faints.)
The above narrative may seem rather dramatic, but it is in no way very far from reality.
Homosexuality has donned new clothes in today’s world; it is no longer something that you need to hide. So much so that it has almost become a fad to pronounce oneself a homosexual or GAY. It is a fashion statement now, a quick way to get media attention and to attract spotlight. For a celebrity whose movies are not doing well due to his/her own fading talent the easiest way to garner people’s interest is to simply say “Hey Folks, I am Gay. The rapid increase in the “Gay Confessions” in the glamour world does supplement my argument. I mean do you suddenly get up one day and realize you are gay or what. Celebs in their 40’s declare that they are gay, so tell me what the hell were you doing all this years? They come up with stupid statements like “I always felt I was a woman trapped in a man’s body”. What an utter bull shit!
Ricky martin, Rob Hartford, Megan Fox, Dan Cho, Neil Patrick Harris (et tu brute!)
The list is endless….
Not only humans, the trend to label fictional or comic characters as gay is increasing catching. Only a few weeks back I read a newspaper column in which some bloody Gaylord had proclaimed that “Tin Tin” a very famous comic character was actually gay. Wow, did Tin Tin actually whisper this into your ear.... fagot, while he lay dying on his bed or did you stumble upon some of his secret correspondences or perhaps a secret diary. With 200 million copies sold in 50 languages, is this the character has been reduced to…., wow!
I have copied the few lines from this crazy Gaylord’s interview in Times magazine:

“

(In an article published in The Times Wednesday, Parris said he comes to the conclusion from an examination of Tintin's life.
Tintin, who was born January 10, 1929, on the pages of a children's supplement to the Belgian newspaper Le Vingtième Siècle, has an unknown background and origin, says Parris, adding: "This is common among young gay men, some of whom find it hard to believe that they really are their parents' child".
Tintin's journalism also raises Parris's suspicion: "Tintin's only recorded remark to his editor (on departing for Moscow) is 'I'll send you some postcards and vodka and caviar.' For a cub reporter on his first assignment, a curious remark."
In fact, Parris suspects Tintin may well have been a spy - "secret intelligence has always attracted gay men. I myself applied for and was offered a post in MI6."
He finds Tintin's world full of men. Of the complete list of 350 characters in Tintin books, Parris counts only eight women, and he doesn't find them attractive.
The best known of them, chain-smoking opera singer Bianca Castafiore, is a "diva fag-hag," while Peggy, the wife of a Latin American dictator, is a "curler-wearing virago".
"The butch, bitchy, bullying, cigar-smoking, hard-drinking, flame-haired wife of General Alcazar may well have been lesbian," Parris proclaims.)”

With such concrete evidence I must say, he is right. His level of detailed research would put Mossad to shame.
R.I.P Tintin, your name has been reduced to filth, thanks to a homo.


I guess the next in line would be Astreix and Obelix or HULK or perhaps Flash Gordon.
Then of course we have J.K Rowling stating that Dumbledore is gay. Really, was he? Isn’t it that he will be whatever you make him to be, you can make him a man, woman, gay, hermaphrodite or even an alien. It is all up to you, as you have composed the story. So when you say with a very serious face in a press conference that, “Dumbledore, is actually gay”. You are not only lying to yourself but mocking the whole sane world. This was nothing but a cheap trick on your part to increase the sales of your books (by creating a sensation) which had already sold a million copies. Greed is my guess.


On the other hand, the usage of the word gay has widened a lot. Now it is often used to define a person, an activity, an event or almost anything for that matter. Like the word FUCK, it also has multiple meanings depending upon the usage. I will expatiate with the following examples:

1. What a gay shirt are you wearing! ( If the shirt is very bright/colorful)
2. What a gay movie that was. (If the movie is pansy or lovey dovey)
3. That’s such a gay haircut. (Any jazzy stuff)
4. What a gay song are you listening too. ( Typical if you hear boy bands like backstreet boys)
5. You are gay. ( for any act of cowardice , for not being super cool, for not been a hardcore or Guido)

Today everything can be gay, an animal, a individual, a pen, piece of clothing, eating habits, jokes, dreams…..the list is never ending. The usage is so wide and diverse and the meaning conveyed is not always the true meaning. For a college going kid, nothing is worse than a girl calling him a Gaylord for his actions. As it is rarely used to define the sexual inclination of an individual, only the media uses it for that.
So this is the journey of a word from heaven to hell.

WTF………….I mean seriously WTF……………………….

Shakespeare…where art thou?

A Series of Unfortunate Events!!

Many a times we have come across a movie or a book which entails about the misfortune of a traveler, about how lady luck showed her back to him, about how everything possible went wrong for him. Well, recently I did realize that such incidents are not merely figment of imagination on the part of the author or the director as the case might be.
I hereby narrate one such incident to which I was a party ……at the receiving end of course.
It all started when I decided to heed to my mother’s emotional telephone call. In which she had implored and beseeched me to come and see her. I decided to travel on a bus boarding from Bombay (where I was residing at the moment owing to work) for Ahemedabad (Where my father is currently posted).
I booked my tickets from a place in the outskirts of the city, which was also the place from where I was supposed to board the bus. I had spent a decent amount to book ticket in a sleeper bus so that I could sleep comfortably through the night while on journey (at least that’s what I thought…what a fool I was).
After booking the ticket for a bus that was supposed to depart at 9.30pm I thought of putting the2 hrs that I had in hand to good use and imbibed a good quantity of “Firewater” along with a friend of mine whom I had called over to give me company.
I reached the boarding point at 9.15 pm where I was greeted with the lamentable news that, ‘the Bus had been delayed due to some unforeseen acts of nature and would be reaching shortly’. This shortly how so ever turned out to be very long and finally an alternate bus reached there around 10.45pm. How I killed the time during that period in my inebriated and irritated state is story of sheer willpower, determination and valor.
I was intending to hit the bunk as soon as the bus arrived, but my miseries were far from over. As the bus which had reached at that spot, was just an alternate transport which was supposed to take me to another spot from where I was supposed to board another bus which would then take me to my final destination. (Phew…so much for the comfort I was seeking!)
With my wayward steps and sleepy eyes I boarded the “alternate transport” which dropped me to the next stop at 11.45pm. With the clock striking midnight and my patience and willpower giving way I boarded the new bus in a hope that I would be finally able to lie down and sleep. But sadly fate again had something else in store for me. There was a surprise waiting for me in the bus, the bus wasn’t a “Sleeper Coach” but a “Chair Car.”
So much for lying down and relaxing! The idea of sleeping for the night flew out of the window after this discovery of mine. Sleeping in a sitting position was an impossibility for me. All I could do to vent out my anger was to call up the guy who booked my ticket (and fooled me for paying extra) and abuse him to my heart’s delight before he cut the phone.
I took this predicament on my part as god’s ill will and embarked on my journey thinking after all how difficult would it be to sit in the bus for 12 straight hours. Right! Post midnight the journey started and after about half an hour of bumpy ride in the city we hit the highway. I thought finally now, I would be able to relax in the quiet surroundings around me. But the loud music that the driver put on rebuffed my thoughts. After rebuking him for his in considerate act I resumed my seat, closed my eyes and rested engulfing my mind in pleasant thoughts.
The next 3 hours were spent twisting and turning on the seat in desperate hopes of catching my “40 winks”. But my success in that was very partial and 10 min was the longest I slept at a stretch. Around 3.30am I was awakened (again) from my light sleep, this time owing to the smoke that had enveloped the entrails (passenger section) of the bus. I quickly surveyed the scene around me with my sleepy and confused eyes and finding that most of the bus was already empty I rushed outside gripping my laptop and travel bag. The thought of being burned alive had sent this adrenaline rush in me, which had made me both sober and active.
Outside the scene was chaotic with most of the passenger’s hollering at the driver and his helper. I came to know from them that the engine of the bus had caught fire and was emitting smoke like a chimney. I was hopeful that whatever the problem was, it would be rectified soon and then I could resume my journey and perhaps sleep. It was communicated to me that this was it and the bus would not be budging another inch for some hours at least.
So here I was stranded in no man’s land at 4 in the morning with no locomotion at my disposal and my destination still 7 hrs away. I saw some intelligent folks flagging down a passing jeep and with an idea of hitching a ride I joined these folks. But this hitch was not free and I had to fork out a decent amount for it. The best part, the jeep would not take me to Ahmedabad but to a place that was 3 hrs from Ahmedabad. Also since the “intelligent folks” had sat in the middle and front seat I was left to sit on the back seat in a position that would have made it impossible for me to catch any sleep.
With no respite at sight and with no other option at hand I thought of making the best of this situation. So the jeep started off with the next four hours being spend bouncing on the seat owing to the great roads of the state and also to the shock absorbers of the jeep. My situation there was that of a potato on an empty cart, just bouncing hither and thither.
So the journey progressed, I was tired, irritated, sleepy, distraught, dejected etc etc. My neck hurt due to my awkward sitting arrangement and due to my failed attempt to catch some well deserved sleep because of laying my head on all accessible spots. To add on to it, the driver of the jeep was drunk and being a great fan of bollywood music he arrogantly refused to lower the blow of the radio. It was his day and not mine.
This leg of my journey ended around 7.30 in the morning. To my dismay instead of dropping me on a bus/train terminus the bugger dropped me in the middle of a highway and bid adieu to me. I caught an auto for the railway station from there. I was hoping to catch some local train to Ahmedabad and reach my destination without any more (mis)adventures.
On inquiring at the railway station ticket counter I was told that the next train for Ahmedabad would be leaving in 4 hours. So I could either wait or look for some alternate source of transport. Luckily (final lady luck took pity on me) the bus station was just outside the train station and after a few inquiries I was able to locate the ticket counter from where I was to take the ticket for the Bus. So the next 30min were spent standing in the line under the Sun. Finally the ticket in my hand I boarded the bus. The next 3 hours were spent in the overcrowded bus with the hot summer air burning my cheeks. All thoughts of sleep had left my mind and I had finally accepted that my quota for sleep will remain unfilled.
On reaching Ahmedabad, I was dropped by the bus in the remote outskirts of the town. I had to change 2 auto rickshaws to finally reach my home and “By Jove” that was one of the happiest home coming for me.

Salesman & the KID

Sales….a dreaded field of work for some and a field of great opportunities filled with action and fast pace for some.
Today “door-to-door” salesmen have become a thing of the past, but there was a time when these guys were omnipresent in India with their “Vacuum Cleaners”, “Soda Maker’s”, “Encyclopedia’s” or “ Comics(Tintin/Astreix and not Nagraj or Dhruv(sadly)).

As a child I was always fascinated by them (the salesmen) and I would always gleefully invite them in the house whenever they came knocking…….. as if they were “Santa Claus” and were getting me gifts. This of course much to the discomfort of my folks who had given me strict instructions to bang the door when I saw one irrespective of what he was selling.
But I could never understand what harm lay in just watching a demo of the product that they were selling or gazing/turning pages of the comics they brought…… after all that didn’t cost anything did it.

My fascination with them just simply didn’t lie in the wares (read comics) they sold but also because I liked the whole concept of their work, it appeared adventurous to my young mind, the whole thought of roaming wherever you wanted and meeting new people appealed to me very much(now I think what a fool I was).
May be it was because of having someone new in the house appealed to me or maybe it was close to the story “Kabuliwala” that I had read in my syllabus or maybe I was just bored and wanted something, someone to kill time with.
I guess I was too young to understand the intricacies involved in the job and only viewed the aspects involved….. through my young eyes.

My mother always liked the ones who came with a “vacuum cleaner” and they were treated with a little more respect in the house. This was for a simple reason she used to take this opportunity to make them remove the dust/dirt from the corners/places that were unreachable to normal humans. This was done very slyly, while she pretended that she was merely checking the handiness of the product and was genuinely looking forward to buy it. But buy…alas…. she never did.

Now I narrate the incidents one fine summer afternoon (it’s always the summer, how typical) many ages ago (around 15 years roughly…. am not an octogenarian).
It was vacation time and I was spending much of my valuable time at home doing practically nothing, just enjoying my time in my dream world. To those to whom this might look surprising let me clarify there was a time when the magic of Home PC had not invaded India yet, and children preferred playing outdoor sports than WOW (world of War craft) and they let their imagination run wild.

The door bell rang and broke my trance. I got up to answer the door, expecting to find a god send friend to my rescue, to deliver me from boredom. It turned out to be a salesman, I grunted with disappointment and was about to close the door after saying the well rehearsed “No, thank you” that I saw what he held in his hands. He held “Flight 714” amongst other comics of Tintin. What’s so special about it, well…for one it was the only comic in Tintin series that I had not read. This would complete it. This surely was something for which I could bear my mother’s scolding, as the thrill to go through those colorful pages was worth it. My heart was pumping like an engine; excitement was too small a word to describe my state.

So with great hope and exhilaration I invited him into the hall and asked him to take the seat.

He started of by asking if there was an adult in the house, as if my 10 years on this planet did not account for anything.
“Yes, there was but why do you need him/her after all”, I wondered. I am the target customer for your product, show the comics to me, and let me appreciate them”. But all good things come with a price and so did this. A price which was monetary in nature and out of my purview. My likings didn’t matter; it was my mother who could purchase them.

I wondered if I had enough in my “piggy bank’ to use the alternate channel to close the sale, but then I remembered how I had squandered off my savings, on a stupid treat given to my stupid friends, for scoring full marks in a stupid “class test”. I cursed my intelligence. Stupid me …attempting all the questions. But, the damage was already done.

So with a heavy heart and with a certain surety of the outcome I went to my mother’s room where she was enjoying her siesta.
My mother never liked to be disturbed in her slumber, and to be disturbed for such a trivial issue…what I was thinking. I knew the battle was already lost before the first bullet was fired. But being a great believer in luck and destiny I still ventured forward.

Charge………………!!!

^*^$*^*($^*(@^*)_*!_@_*_*@_*__*!_*!@_*_!*_@*!

She brushed me off.

Her reply to my humble request was no different from my expectation. My feeble attempts to use my innocent (cute) facial expressions to my advantage did not pay any dividends whatsoever.

As I was returning to the hall with my quashed sprits I noticed some loose cash lying on the dressing table. Should I ….my need was questioning my morality. The adrenaline was making a rush; the veins on my temple were bulging…..should I…?

I thought and thought again.

No.

Somehow I could not get myself to do the unthinkable, the inconceivable….. I could not steal, not from my own home.
It was not honesty or similar virtues taught by my mother which made me take this decision , but my sanity which made me think about the spanking I would get in case my heist was discovered.

I went back to Mr. Salesman with a heavy heart, but instead of breaking him the real news I sang a different tune altogether. I convinced him of having procured the money from my mother and it was at my disposal. I stated that before signing off I wanted to confirm the quality of stuff I was procuring. Which actually meant, I wanted to read and go through the comic superfast before him being any wiser about my intentions and of my broke state. (I swear the plan appeared quite ingenious at that time).
The next 15 minutes were spend gazing and polishing off the comic at lightening fast speed, with two opposite thought processes running in both of our minds. While he thought he would make the sale, I knew the reality and was thinking on completing the comic ASAP.

But soon he got weary of the whole scenario and began to suspect my real intentions. He asked if I wanted to purchase any one of the books or not and if I did I better pay up now as he had to go to other places too.
I looked up at him with my pleading eyes which if he could have read would have said “Please let me at least finish the story that I am reading”. Well reading eyes or your expression is more philosophical and reality is way different. So I replied to his query with my articulate reply “The books aren’t interesting enough”.

“Not interesting enough”, wow what was I saying.

A lie, a blatant lie, but did I have any other option.

The salesman got up, with a frustrated look and a frown on his face. He must have surely cursed me under his breath for wasting so much of his time.
As I closed the door on him, my mind was perplexed, “how would the story have ended?, “ What was Capt. Haddock’s next plan?” . I was desperate, I wanted to read the book, I wanted to, I wanted to.

Alas, these tantrums were only in my feeble mind.



I had to get that book, at that moment it appeared as if my life depended on it.

I ran to the terrace to have a last look, I saw the guy walking towards the main road, with his bag dangling on one side. The bag which had my treasure (my precious: LOTR), a treasure whose value only I knew.
I made my mind; I wanted the comic and was ready to pay any price for it, which need not have been monetary.

I ran first towards my mother’s room and then outside the house.

In a split second my innocence was lost.
I was transformed from a KID to man.

Confessions of an engineer!!

It is said in India that “if u pick up a stone from a street and throw it in any random direction, it will fall on an engineer.”
What does this sarcastic statement signify? Well for one, it throws light on the abundance, the plentitude, the multitude, the profusion or shall I say epidemic of students with an engineering degree in India.
So let me don "surgical gloves" and do some forensic analysis to find the cause of this disease that has infected the youths of India today. As to what credentials I have, to make such an atrocious statement.....well, I am just another engineer (By default)....in this horde.
I have nothing against engineering per se.....in fact I consider it to be one of the best professional courses that the mankind has to offer. All throughout the history it has been engineers who have brought about inventions in technology/science for the betterment of mankind.
Bridges, dams, airplanes, tanks, computers, internet etc etc etc....all because of engineers. You look at any gadget that complements your day to day life and you will have an engineer’s mind behind it.
So as I have stated, I have nothing against the breed or the field. But we are here to analyze the cause of an epidemic specific to India.
The problem is more complex than it appears and actually questions the culture, mentality, outlook, mindset, and way of thinking of us Indians.
Let me take you through the Engineering timeline in India:
1. The 50's- 60's : After independence the government took upon it to see that youths of India had equal opportunities is f mot more as compared with their peers in the west in terms of education. The government set up national institutes, which had high standards and some regional institutes with fair standards. To be an engineer was not for every one and only the bright, hard working guys (also girls) with an aptitude for the field were able to get the admission and pursue the course. After graduating most took jobs in state run companies, few in the private firms (mostly mechanical/civil/chemical etc) and even fewer and I mean fewer ventured west.

2. The 70's - 80's: Considering the ever growing population of the country and a hunger for higher education by the youths, more Institutes were set up y the government but that wasn’t all. So few private players and a few trusts’ came forward with new Institutes. So India started to churn out more and more Engineers now. But, the job opportunities for the really talented and bright ones was something that the government and the economy at that time could not offer. So we saw a phenomenon that we refer today as "Brain Drain".

Result” best of the best went to the west. “

But still there were a considerable number of people who worked in India in both public and private sector. Engineering had certainly become one of the choicest of professional course in India; it was easier to be an engineer now in India than ever before. This period also saw the emergence of a new field of engineering “Computers".

3. The 90's: This decade brought with itself globalization, liberalization, privatization or simply LPG as the MBA's say. India witnessed growth as never before, there was a boom. The Bull was riding; License Raj came to an end. More and more MNC;'s were setting up offices in India and they wanted domestic talent. Even Indian companies were expanding, there was a great demand for talented engineers and there was gap in the output of production factories of engineers and the requirement. Many private players saw this as a great opportunity and stared to set up private colleges across the country in large scale. Admission into many of these did not require much of talent but more of money on your Dad's part. Donations for admission became common and colleges started to be filled up with students who were there for the heck of it and had no clue what they were doing. There was no dearth of job opportunities if you were in a decently reputed college. Companies wanted more.
By the end of this decade a new phenomenon had gripped the country "Off shoring". While India was booming the West had a slowdown with minimal growth, the companies were looking to reduce costs of operation and then they saw heaven in India. A country with numerous (literally) graduates more that any where else, a country with more engineers than entire Europe. So what if all of them were not actually at par with the engineers of the west (thanks to the low grade of education in many institutes and the large intake of students), as it is the work they were doing was second grade and what more they were doing it cheap (thanks again to the dollar -rupee difference).
The MNC's were ecstatic they could foresee how they would be saving Billions, India was happy, engineers were happy, they had so many jobs…. as never before . It was very easy to find a job and what more the MNC's paid you well too, no point grilling your arse for the public sector. Hey they have a 5 day work week...Yippee....

4. The new millennium: With the new millennium came the IT revolution in India, there were SEZ /STP's for IT companies set up by the government. There were many tax benefits and other soaps given to them and what more it was cheap to set up and IT company as compared to some other sector companies. This and many other factors contributed in mushrooming of IT/ITES companies in India. You could find one in every nook and corner. In a way it was good for Indian entrepreneur as more and more guys stared opening their own firms and it also resulted in "reverse brain drain"...Indians settled in west coming back to set up companies in India.

All this did wonders to Indian economy and the GDP for that matter. But these huge technology factories did not take steel/iron/coal as raw material but thrived on Humans (read engineers) . Companies like Infosys, Wipro, TCS, IBM, Accenture and many other big players each employed over 100,000 people (again read engineers). With such high demands even a country like India had a problem churning out enough "computer engineer", despite having production line that would have impressed Henry Ford.
With such grave situation, just to open new colleges by private players was not enough, so a new branch "IT" was introduced by some smart ass which was no different that "Computer branch" except the name of course.
So with the same infrastructure Institutes added a new stream and started churning out more students that could be employed with these companies. Institutes were delighted, never before they had seen such record placements. There were cases when entire batch getting placed in a single day by the same company.
Everyone was happy.
But the hunger of IT companies did not subside, they wanted more and they wanted it fast.
So the companies changed their tactics, why go for “computer engineers", let us simply go for "engineers" only as it is, all the students that the companies recruited were hardly employable and companies needed to train them on technologies in house. So what if we recruit, mechanical, civil, electronic or chemical engg....all we have to do is train them a little more. So a compromise was made and also the eligibility criteria’s were lowered.
But like any “Evil Corporate”, the hunger of IT was insatiable, and they decided to pray on another category of students “BSc & MSc in Science/Computers (BCA)” and similar graduates. The advantage being pay less to these guys compared to engineers and these guys did not switch companies that often. Win, Win & Win again. IT was on a roll. A new generation was born “Cyber Slaves”, and their discipline/dedication would have put the parades of soviet era to shame.

I would like to clarify that by no means I have anything against IT companies, for one even I work in one of these “Evil Corps”. I am just elucidating about certain facts ……. what can I say…ahem…..in “Rather dramatic way”.
Having laid down the facts let me also do a quick outlook of Indian Middleclass/Service Class as to what resulted in this phenomenon.

Note: I do not pride myself as being a great sociologist nor am I a authority on Indian culture/society. What I write is derived from my own experiences and of my fellow beings. I do not know how things have changed to day in Indian Education and my reference are to the times when I was a student, which if not prehistoric is merely 5-10 year old.So here it goes.
In India it is natural for any remotely bright student to pick science stream over commerce/arts post 10’th grade.
If a person scoring above 80 % in 10’th grade told his parents, “Dad/Mom, I want to take arts. I want to pursue a career in History”. That poor chap was either taken to a psychiatrist for mental examination or primitive/rudimentary ways to rebuking were used to get his mind on track. Such thought were enough to qualify yourself to the asylum. Such was a state that the students pursuing fine arts were looked down as being a “Dunce”.
The Indian Hierarchy was set:
1. Science
2. Commerce
3. Arts
It was naturally considered by anyone that a person taking up Arts in 11-12’th grade was a loser in life. It was an unsaid fact.
Now why this was the mentality also has a reason, which was simple enough. Only science graduates landed up decent paying jobs in varying sector.
For Arts student it was considered that they will end up being a teacher or Professor (for brighter ones amongst them).
Then in Science category the only feasible options were “Engineer” and “Doctor”. Of course it was not easy being a doctor as it required “money (for donations”), “available seats were less”, the course was lengthy and in short it was tougher course to pursue than engineering.
So for all “Intelligent (supposedly) “students engineering was the “name of the game” that would fetch them good jobs and great riches (to some it got).
In Indian society it is seldom what the child wants and more often we end up pursuing career that our parents want for us, simply because they do not know better, which again is fair, as earlier there were really not many job opportunities for normal graduates.
The better the engineering college (IIT Dream) the better it was for the student as the better (high paying) job he will get.
So people actually took a drop after school to get into one of the top notch colleges, even at the cost of wasting years and making repetitive attempts. The whole aura of getting into IIT’s and other top notch colleges is so much that students sacrifice their sleep, there joys, there happiness to get into them and at times regret that once they are in there.
I never actually wanted to be an engineer; it’s just that I knew no better. Like any adolescent I had no clue as to what to do with my life, so I took the advice from my parents, friends, and elders and took the plunge. I did have interests in literature, history, archaeology, travel but I had no clue what I could do with them, how I could use them to make money nor did anyone I knew.
We as a society govern our actions on what others would say and on what the others do and seldom actually use our own intellect to think what we actually want and pursue it.
But I do think that the times are changing, at least of what I have seen of generation “Z”, people have started pursuing jobs in fields and sectors that they really are interested in and even parents are supporting them. Today there are more diverse opportunities than before and this change is for good.
As for engineering, well the whole image (respect) of an engineer is in doldrums today, as any tom, dick and harry can be one. The engineers of today by the time they graduate do not even remember the names of all the subjects they have studied in the duration of the course let alone the knowledge they acquired from it.
If you think this is bad, you do not have any clue of the plight of an Indian MBA…….

26-11 Trial: A Mockery of a Nation

Today is being hailed by many as a great day in Indian Judiciary, why…??...because today two murders walk home free…because today the “Honorable” Mumbai high Court judge acquitted two co-accused in this bloody carnage that we call 26-11........due to lack of concrete evidence against them mind you concrete evidence.

For those of you, who did not assimilate the gravity of my statement, let me put it across to you in plain English. Today our esteemed high court judge (who by the way is supposed to be a well read and learned man) let go of two god forsaken, bastards/ Terrorists/ ass****….whom the whole world knew were a part of this bloody conspiracy….. he allowed them to walk home free,… just because their wasn’t enough evidence.

Is this something to triumph upon or is this something utterly shameful for the nation. I believe it is the latter, because I am neither bloody pseudo- secularist nor a bloody hippie to take pride in this abomination of a ruling. I know the “law is Blind”, but that is why we appoint a judge with credentials on such a seat and pay him good money, so that at some point of time he may use his own judgment and brains.

I mean seriously WTF……… Mr. Judge what the hell are you trying to prove……. that “you are King Solomon”, with a great power of judgment…of differentiating right from wrong…. or you are a bloody show off who wants to show off in the page 3 parties, who wants to remembered as the judge who did not bow down against the public pressure, under public emotion and gave a just decision. Who wants to boast to his buddies that, how you showed your middle finger to the families of the victims.

You surely would be remembered in history, as the judge who pissed on the faces of the families of the victims, who pissed on the hope of an entire nation. If letting these bastard terrorists live and undergo trail while wasting the tax payers’ money wasn’t enough, you actually proved to the whole world once again how big “Pansies” we Indians are.

Wow, you truly did a great thing. I mean you could have used your common sense, how difficult is that. How difficult was it for you to say that “you found those men guilty” evidence or no evidence, come on man your judgment was final thing you could have easily done it, but you had to do this bull shit of throwing in you law antics.
I am sure if there was little less evidence against “Kasab”, you would have let him also go scot free and kill more innocents.

How can you have a sound sleep at night after being such a big ass****.

Dude, I mean what is your problem?

I know it is not easy being a judge, it’s a position that comes with a lot of responsibilities. I know I am not aware of the case details nor have I seen the evidence brought in the case. But what I do know is I am one of those Indians who were angered by this atrocious act of these terrorists, their sympathizers and Pakistan.

I am one of those Indians who has for years witnessed our governments handle this whole issue without guts. Why that only spine less fellows are the decision makers is beyond my understanding. We were always a nation of cowards and Hippocrates.
Let me also clarify, that I have nothing personally against you. But against the whole set of people like you whom we have in plenty in this country. These set of people always think it to be cool, if you go against the common sense and common majority in any issue what so ever.

I do want to question a lot of you bloody hippie’s whom I saw giving interviews to various channels with smiles on their faces, stating how this was a triumph for the Indian judiciary. Was it?

Are you sick or what. I mean I am sure you would not have been smiling if your son or daughter would have been killed in that attack. In that case you would be asking for blood like the others are presently. At least look at the tears of those family members who lost their loved one’s and polish of the bloody grin from your face.

I am sure you Mr. Showman would have been the one of the first to light a candle after the attacks, tell you what we don’t need no candle’s we need people who have balls and don’t mind calling a spade a spade. We want people who can deliver in terms of things that actually mean something and are not some bloody show off’s

How big a coward are you all?

I can agree that there could be a lack of evidence, but I am sure any sane person could have said that those bloody guys were terrorists just by the looks of it…. leave alone the evidence.

Call me biased if you want at least I have the balls to acknowledge the truth, at least I don’t shy away from speaking my mind for the fear of not being politically correct.

Mr. Judge, I ask you again, what the hell were you trying to prove.
By going against the public opinion you have not done something great , you have only proved how big a coward and a hippie you are.

Why do some people have to be politically correct, why cant we trust the judgment of their minds sometimes rather than some stupid documents/proofs, at least in the issues of such great magnitudes.

Had this been a one odd incident I would not have reacted like this….but this is always the case, in India….whether you build a dam, build a steel plant, kill a terrorist or something else in national interest to which the majority of public agrees. There is always group of human rights activists or some other bull shit activist or some goddamn hippies who have a problem. What do you want, do you want the country to go to dark ages, it is these people who always go against the public sentiment who try to portray as if they know more than everyone in the world, who consider themselves polished and other countrymen as ignorant fools.
Sometimes there is no mid way it’s either this way or that way…. have balls to state things for what they actually are.

Once again we have made Pakistan bask in our shame, it is actually their triumph and not others. How difficult is for the some people and organizations (Times of India, with their “Aman in Aasha” bull shit) to realize that Pakistan is our enemy, there is no two ways to it. It has been promoting terrorism in India for ages and we have not even once retaliated. What the hell are we waiting for. Not even one government has ever had the guts to reply in a befitting manner. Its like a college student is being bullied by a third grader and we are letting it happen.

Great is our nation.

I am so repulsed by the whole thing that can’t write more.

My final words to the judge %$@&$*@&@@%@I@*)*)**)!&(@(^(@.

3 Idiots : Review

After a week long of nagging from my friends and after being called a “Indian Firangi” (for not watching bollywood flicks) I finally thought of taking the Plunge and downloaded “3 Idiots” on my lappy. (Yup am a believer is open source sharing so sue me producers). I wanted to know what the hype was all about, what was this movie that was creating uproar both in media and public. Let you all be forewarned I am not a big fan of bollywood I openly criticize for most of its work , so you may find this review overly critical at times and prejudice it to be expected.
For starters I have read “5 point someone” by Chetan Bhagat, on whose book this movie is supposedly based. I was expecting to see many scenes from the book enacted by highly paid actors. But what I witnessed was a sheer mockery of the book that had created a furore amongst Indian readers. As usual we Indians proved once again why we re such a bad copycats when it comes to cinema and why we shred to pieces a completely fine story .Of course director/producer Mr Chopra always stated in his defense that the movie was not based in the novel but just inspired by it a fact which Mr Bhagat refuted and so do I. Considering that many of the important scenes were straight out of the book and the extra “bollywood masala” that Mr Chopra added only resulted in a spicy overcooked dish that certainly didn’t appeal to my appetite , but then I am a “Bollywood Critic” and since Mr Chopra had made his due from this movie he doesn’t give a dam about my thoughts.
Still in a vain attempt I bring to you my points to put my case in front of the reader:
1. The movie should have been titled 1 idiot instead of 3, as it was completely based in an around “Aamir Khan”, it started with him, it ended with him. Other characters/actors were just filling in , to show that Khan lived in a human world. The movie portrayed him as a cousin to “Superman” who had come from planet Kryton, as there was not a single thing that he couldn’t do. Be it studies, pranks, chicks, inventions, you name it and the Indian Da Vinci had a solution for it. Utterly third class.

2. Acting is the last thing that I expect from mainstream bollywood stars and Aamir only proved me right. He was a misfit for this role and this 45 year old gentleman was miserably failing as a 19 year old college kid. The actor who portrayed his role the best was undoubtedly “Boman Irani” who once again proved his mettle in a very different role. So be it “Khurana” from “Khosla ka Ghosla” or “Viru Sahasrabudhe” he has delivered as is expected of him. As far as others are concerned they all were mediocre, with only bits and pieces of class acting, rest all was unnatural and overacting.
I wonder why with so many takes also, the director can not have the actor look natural.

3. Now to dissect the plot, many of the “ funny scenes” in the movie were classic clichés, be it the “speech”, “mixing the exam papers”, “man taking snap of burqua clad women” etc. The movie seriously lacked originality. Something that I was hoping to see in a “Box Office” hit but then again what was I thinking. If Mr Chopra would have towed in the line of the plot of the Book, he still would have produced a better piece than this. I mean the sheer absurdness of some of the scenes in the movie made it ridiculous to watch. It surprises me how Indian directors can really far fetched ideas through their movies and how public adores these asynchronous and impractical things.

4. People can debate that a movie is supposed to be enjoyed not analyzed at every point, but when you show a character with 400 patents and who has done engineering in some one else’s name, who didn’t speak to his sweetheart and friends for 10 years, because of some stupid “majboori”, the friends couldn’t find him for 10 years and what not. Then my friends you have to think rationally.

5. Some of my friends suggested that I specially watch this as I stayed in an engineering hostel so I could probably relate to many of the incidents like ragging etc. To them I say “Spare me the horror”. This was no different from other Hindi flicks where hey show an imaginative college which doesn’t exist in real world (Hollywood is no less in this matter, mind it.) I mean the director should have actually should at least have spoken to some hostlers before filming this abomination. There are very few Hindi movies that portray the hostel life as it truly is, “Dil Dosti etc” did this to a certain extend and so did “Gulaal” But movies like “Mai Hoon Na” only make me wanna Puke.

6. “All is well”, I mean “What the deuce”, is that a punch line from a T.V commercial, this horrendous phrase plagued my mood during my viewing of the movie. It saves a baby, I am sorry, but “are you shitting me!” I am so repulsed by this phrase exactly like “Subhan Allah” in “Fanah” that I don’t even feel like commenting on it.

7. So these are just few of my reasons for not liking the movie and I stand by them. How it appealed to so many people and why did people go “ga ga “about it is beyond my comprehension. To my eyes it was shoddy work.
Mainstream bollywood cinema was never my cup of tea and it never will be , I do like many of small budget bollywood flicks which cater to different issue than “Love” bud sadly there are very few takers for them.

In the end am just glad that I didn’t waste Rs 400 to watch “All is Well”.

The Rocking Chair

We used to call her Pabbi , a name whose origin I didn’t know and neither did she. We called her that, well because everyone else did and so did we and moreover we didn’t know better. To the world she was just another octogenarian who spend most of her day sitting in her rocking chair on the veranda. But to me she was a “grand” – mother who had given me love of both a grandmother and mother.
Being a motherless child, she was the only source of love that exists between a child and his mother for me.My mother passed away in childbirth before I could even place her image in my mind, before I could even open my eyes to gaze at her and it was Pabbi who had taken care of me since I was a toddler feeding me, cleaning up after me, putting me to sleep and of course telling me all those bed time stories. She had come to stay with us soon after my mother passed away as there was no one to take care of me. People used to say that she would have looked exactly like my mother at her young age, well I guess she must have after all I had no living proof to refute that claim.

My father’s job made him travel across the country throughout the year and the frequency of his travel increased more after my mother’s death. I believe he wanted to keep himself preoccupied with work, somehow he never got over the loss of his wife. Friends and family had suggested that he remarry but he had brushed the idea away. I always felt a distance between us. It seemed to me as if he held me responsible for the untimely death of his loved one. So during my childhood instead of sitting on my father’s shoulder I got to sit in Pabbi’s lap, instead of playing sports with my father , I used to make that angel of a women fetch the football after I had kicked it without realizing the pain that she would be enduring with those arthritis ridden knees. Well in my defense all I can say is at that tender age I was not aware of the cruelties of old age and thus found it surprising when I found her out of breath within 5 minutes of playing with me.

The feature I liked most about her were her eyes, there was something enigmatic about them that made them seem so young and full of energy on that wrinkled and chubby face of hers. Their was a mystifying twinkle in them that I really can’t put in words. They looked so pious and placid and at the same time mysterious as if they carried some deep secrets of the era gone by. And then there was her smile, most natural and refreshing one that I have ever come across my life. It was as if god had permanently fixed that smile there like in the case of “bottle nosed dolphin”. In all those years I spent with her I had never seen her angry or upset and had never seen the tranquility of her smile disappear from her face.

Loquacity being a common trait in both of us, we used to loose track of time during our sessions and many a times they stretched even after midnight. She didn’t use to tell me childish stories about a lion and a mouse but about historical events, historical facts, things of the past, events and experiences of her life, pre independence era, the things that she had seen and witnessed with those hypnotic eyes of hers. She was the one who had sown the seeds for my interest in History at a very young age which later on helped me pursue my career in it. So since my childhood I had developed a great appetite for knowledge in whatever form it came and when most kids used to run away from studies I relished the whole experience of it.

She was a bit hit with all my friends in the neighborhood and this usually resulted in a house packed with screaming kids who just jumping here and there. Such was her charisma that even at her age we found a compatriot in her; such was her ability to gel with younger, mischievous minds. Some came to play with her, some to devour her cooking, which I must confess were truly heavenly. She was an instrument of sport amongst the kids of my neighborhood with girls doing her plait, putting kajal or some make up on her. The absence of a strict elder in my house made it a perfect get away for all the kids and the spacious surroundings and garden gave ample space to play around. So my house was the den of the neighborhood which made me feel important. Little did we care in those times about the mess we created and about the person who had to clean up after us. She was a part of most of our games and frolics that did not involve her to get up from her rocking chair.


It was one sunny Sunday afternoon many moons ago the events of which have left such a mark on me that I have a very vivid memory of that eventful day. Being a holiday me and my friends were playing hide and seek in and around my house. The ample foliage, trees and my old British raj bungalow provided plenty of places for us to hide and we made the most of it. While we kids were amok, Pabbi was sitting docilely on her rocking chair with a rosary in one of her hands.

It was my turn to seek and I was going about checking the usual places where my friends usually hid. I was having trouble finding my friends so I thought of cheating, which I at times did and which incidentally was not difficult for me as I had my spy planted on the veranda who usually saw and thus knew where the kids were hiding. Yes, Pabbi had many a times helped me whenever it was my turn to seek. As I could not ask her aloud we had devised a code, all I did was look at her and tilt my head upwards and the direction in which she turned her head would give me a clue about the hiding place of my partners. We had also devised some hand signs for the common hiding spots.
It had taken me lot of coaxing to convince her to be a part of my ploy but in the end my persistence had won me an ally.

This time too I thought of making use of my asset in disguise and so I nonchalantly walked towards her and to make my move. She was sitting calmly in her chair and staring at a distance. I whistled in a low tone to attract her attention, No response! This did not surprise me as she was in a habit of sleeping with hr eyes open. Now what to do I thought, I could not openly call out for her help. So, I casually called out to her to ask her the time, even though I knew she was wearing her wristwatch but I just wanted. to awaken her. When even that did not arose her from her siesta I thought of letting it go and went on to look for my friends alone. After some initial success I was soon tagged by one of my friends and so lost. As it was getting pretty late in the afternoon we all thought of calling it quits and heading to our respective homes for lunch.
So I walked back to mine with a swollen face so as to confront Pabbi for not helping me.
She was still sound asleep, I walked towards her to wake her up. As soon I touched her face the coldness of her flesh sent a chill to my spine. I knew something was wrong, out of instinct I put my ear to her heart as I had playfully done many a time to listen to the rhythm of her heart beat. But today I was greeted by an eerie silence. I shouted and ran back, I don’t know why, perhaps I was afraid, afraid of loosing the one that I loved the most in this world, perhaps my little mind sensed that something was not right I really don’t know but I just ran.

I turned back to look at her before crossing over to our neighbor’s yard and saw the smile still there, the twinkle still present and the chair still rocking.

Working with a start up

Working with a start up
As an aspiring MBA, I had always dreamt that as a MBA grad my first job would be in a big MNC, a plush office, a laptop, a blackberry, onsite visits, a P.A(Ok! That might have been over imagination) but rest all was well within my limits and capabilities. But as destiny would have it, the final placements in my college coincided with the global meltdown resulting in cancellation/ reluctance on the part of recruiters/firms to come for campus placements. Although banks across the world collapsed and became evanescent they still formed the major chunk on companies that came and the IT sector which was my sector of choice remained quite elusive till the end keeping me high and dry till the very end of placement season.
Being stubborn bastard (comes naturally to Leo’s) and my aversion to BFSI I finally landed in a situation when just one month of college was left and I had no job in hand. This is when I decided to take a plunge, lower my expectations about a big firm and a big fat cheque and decided to join a any firm that came my way, although I still didn’t want to compromise on the sector.
So I joined a small company which was primarily into Engineering services (CAD, CAM, CAE etc) and a little bit into software domain also. After my interview in the company my mind was in quite a dubious state, due to lack of infrastructure and professionalism in the part of my future employer. Well what I mean by lack of infrastructure is – a rented bungalow, 10 PC’(with an inch of dust on each,2 dessert cooler, 10 employees,people removing their footwear outside the door etcetera, I guess have conveyed a fairly good picture in the readers mind.
It was nothing like the company of my dreams and nor of my nightmares. At the same time after the talks with the directors who were employed with a TATA motors my imagination was running amok, they had explained me what the company did and also about some of the big projects they had done for a couple of OEM’s and had offered me the post of Marketing Head. So I would be the one who would be responsible for entire marketing/sales related activities (lead generation, presales, sales, account management, marketing communication etc etc!) and in turn was indirectly responsible for running the company. Also I also had a stake in terms of percentage in whatever revenue I got for the company.
A normal person in my state would after considering the dilapidated state of the company would have made up his mind instantly as to not join the company. But that night my mind was thinking in the entirely different direction it was filled with thoughts of how I would transform the company, changes I would incorporate, this and that, I already had imagined that once I get the company up and running smoothly, I’ll invest my capital in it and take up a stake in it ask them to shift to a better location and blah blah., I could see myself meeting with CIO’s across US and Europe. So basically without even moving a muscle I had imagined myself to be a CEO/MD in an upcoming IT firm. Wow so much for the efforts of Narayan Mutrhy, I would be the next big CEO in IT. Talk about fool’s paradise, I was actually settled in that paradise with my imagination giving me food for thoughts. When I think about that night and the subsequent one’s I think of hat a big fool I was and actually: what the hell was I thinking? I have only just shared few of the thoughts running around my mind that night as to what all I was thinking till 4 in the morning even I do not recollect, all I know is that was pretty fool hardy.
With this beautiful picture in mind I sent a confirmation mail to the HR stating my willingness to join “my future” company. Little did I know things aren’t that easy in life and that the reality is way different from day dreams and a fool’s imaginative thoughts.
Well I was with this firm for exactly 2.5 months (Cough! Cough!), so much for the Rembrandt in my mind. In the initial month I actually thought that I could make a difference and did work diligently with whole honesty. It must be kept in mind I had absolutely no guidance from any one else what so ever and whatever efforts I made were my own, be it approaching other people who had knowledge in this matter, blogging heavily on LinkedIn, attending conferences on start ups and much more things. When I look back at what all means I used to get the business it actually embarrasses me, to have done so many menial things during the course of my stay there.
I totally accept that I failed in that job big time and I actually didn’t work much after the initial month. I didn’t use to go to office, use to say I am on filed and use to cut corners in whatever way I could, didn’t use report to my superiors at all. And finally it happened, they had to let me go as a company of their size and in dire states could not afford to keep a non performing asset.
The question is, why did I fail? I know it is always easier to blame others but in my case I actually had others the blame that’s the founders of my company.
1. One day they wanted me to sell one of their software products which in all terms was a cheap rip from an open source code without actually giving me a proper training on the same. They had no marketing plan, cost plan, feature plan, or any god dam things. They made a brochure after I gave them the material. They thought that with their “wonderful” product I will just approach the clients and they will hug me saying “we were waiting for you for so long”. Sorry that is not how the market was, it was filled with competitors with better products better strategy and better everything.
2. The next day they wanted me to run around the auto ancillaries and get some projects from them.
3. The third day they wanted me to find buyers for one of the products whose reseller ship they had taken.
4. The fourth day they wanted mw to get some web development or application development software projects. When they did not have a single person in their team who had a little bit knowledge of how a code is written, most of them just worked here as the company was near their home and they were so bad that no one else would have wanted them.
5. The company didn’t even have a god damm decent functional website, a 10’th grade with a knowledge of HTML could build a better website than theirs. I had to actually give them the links of some reference websites to develop a better website for the company.
To summarize they had no strategy, no technological expertise, no functional expertise no infrastructure no plan no nothing and on the top of that they did not wish to spend a single penny on anything to boost their sales or to explore some new horizons. So heir motto was “No investment, only returns”.
I know I am cribbing a lot here but every word of what I wrote above is true and theses are only few of the things highlighting their in competencies. Twice it happened when some how I had got them a project and these losers could not even deliver. When I had a requirement for an immediate proposal to be send to client they took their merry time to respond to it. There was a big gap in my strategy/outlook for the company and that of the founders. You can imagine for yourself as I met with them only 5-6 times in 2.5 months.
So, to end it all my experience with a start up was so pathetic that I vowed that I would not work with one if I could avoid it. I know the independence and responsibilities look lucrative in a start up but you have to compensate for that with more work and less pay. I guess it all boils down to an individual as to what he/she want form their life. For an engineer/techie I would say start up is a decent option as they get to learn a lot, they get a good exposure and there is no bench time. But for MBA’s a no no, trust me on that.

Mumbai Local Trains

My guess is that, most of us living in India are well aware of what Mumbai local’s(suburban trains) are and the challenge that they present to humanity(In my definition of humans, I do exclude people who commute daily using Mumbai locals, as they are not humans but super humans as per me.).
My first experience of locals was when I was of a vibrant age of ten and nine. I had come over to Bombay ooops Mumbai (better change that before MNS issues a fatwa in my name) to meet a cousin of mine who was working there. Being a vagrant, hot blooded teen I actually dared the ticket checker on the whole trip by travelling without ticket in the first class. As to what I was thinking when I was doing that I am yet to figure out, all I know is that was the period when I sought thrill and adventure in whatever form I could. In those times consequences was something I didn’t care about and definition of “macho” meant doing something stupid. I took that trip more as a challenge than a routine and used my fists to my advantage while travelling in locals.
Lately I had the misfortune of again using the services of esteemed Indian railways in Mumbai. Having lost much of my youthful energies, being more mature and having grown old (Yes! 24 is old, kids now call me uncle, damm!) my experiences were different as I looked at predicament differently and it gave me better perspective of this whole thing considered the life line of Mumbai.
Let me start by saying, I hate travelling in locals! Wow that was brief. But I mean it I absolutely detest the abomination called locals of Mumbai. This is one of the major reason for which I have taken a vow to never work in Mumbai if I could avoid it. Call me a cynic or whatever else you want to for my honest opinion, but prefer to have a space wherever I stand or sit for that matter. I do not like sweaty, greasy bodies of the men sandwiching me, pushing and shoving me, no thank you I rather walk, if that was an option. I am also not a Homo for whom I am sure the experience in locals would be like that of a kid in candy store and he can grope and grab as many arse’s as he wishes without anyone raising an eyebrow at him.
If you think that ladies compartment/bogie is any better than my friends you are sadly mistaken. In fact to call those women ladies would actually not be correct, as Oxford dictionary describes a lady as “courteous and genteel woman”. Gentle is the last thing that they are as their punches would give Mike Tyson a run for his money. If you are a newcomer and you accidently board the bogie reserved for women, then boy you are deep shit as you will be greeted with a slew of choicest of jeers.
But you don’t escape the womenfolk by simply avoiding the reserved bogie. At times women accompanied by their male counterpart’s board the general bogie too. Now Indian women are known to prim and modest especially amongst men. But this notion doesn’t apply to womenfolk travelling in locals as they do not mind rubbing their bodies with men, get their buttocks and bosom squashed for gaining an inch of space. I am especially very wary of such situation as you never know when a woman may allege that you tried to make a sexual move at her even though that woman may be such, that a sexual thought for her would not cross your mind even after spending 20 years in a secluded island. But knowing Indian masses a woman’s word has more weightage than a man’s. And women use this mindset of hordes to their advantage wherever they can to nudge simple folks like me out of their way.
During the course of one of my travels aboard the abomination, when I was helplessly dangling between stinking armpits I heard an old gentleman convey to a youngster that he was travelling in the locals for the past 35 years. Wow! That fact was actually making that “senior citizen” proud as if it was some great achievement. Well I think it actually is an achievement to have accomplished what he did. Could I ever achieve that, nopes never, not in a million years. I would rather prefer to go back to my ancestral village and till the land, than use this abomination for locomotion.
Such is the pride associated with travelling in locals at peak time that many a times my friends living in Mumbai actually compare the difficult tasks in life with travelling in locals at particular time and route. Ex: “You know this one time I was so pissed with my boss that if it was upto me I would have put him at peak time on a local from Andheri to Dadar.” Boy do you believe that, the travel is actually a way of inducing torture to your enemies.
Here are some of the facts that I will like to point out about this whole system:
1. A person(mostly a newcomer) may sometimes think that he would let this one local pass as there were too many people ready to get on board and there is lot of rush in general. Fool, enjoy your 5 minutes of heaven because before you know when the next local is scheduled to come you will find an equal number of people surrounding you again ready to jump in if not more.
2. It does not matter if the local that is coming on to the platform empty, because people will still run and push each other to get on board. I mean I have actually seen this, one time while I was sitting in my bogie(that’s a rare occasion my friends trust me, sitting wow, like a dream come true) the train came to a halt at one of the million station. I am not kidding their must be at least 20-25 empty places and the 6-7 odd guys who boarded the train at that stop jumped in as if this was the last train to heaven. This phenomenon I must confess is not limited to Mumbai but is prevalent all across the nation. For an observer who’s just sitting casually on the platform the whole sight is like dogs chasing after a car.
3. If travelling in this death wagon was not enough, the sheer confusion of on which side the platform would come makes many a novice’s like me to shuttle between the two doors while people are just pushing you away on either side and miss the destination many a times.
4. It was here that I actually realized the importance of time, when I heard a passerby say he intended to catch a local scheduled for of 1.37 pm. 37 are you serious, such odd digit was never in my travel dictionary. It can be 1, 1.30 at max 1.15. But 37 what hell! One good thing that this system has done i.e made the people punctual.
5. For an individual to travel on a local with some luggage at rush hour is truly a feat appreciated by gods. Having experienced it let me tell you my friends it is not a pleasant experience but one that will haunt you. Your bag out of your sight lost ion the hordes of legs with only the last bit of your muscle clinging on to it and giving you a hope that its still is their.
6. There is no point ironing your clothes here, after all with such a multitude of individuals pushing and pulling, you can’t expect your crease to be intact and neither do you expect the fragrance of your new AXE deodorant to last as that fragrance is overcome by the stench of a thousand different types of sweat.
7. For a guy who’s not very tall sometimes the situation becomes very suffocating, especially if you are trapped a bit far away from either doors and on top of that in the event of discharge of flatulence, only the lord will be your savior.
I remember watching “The Amazing Race” on TV once, in which one of the couple participating had an option of choosing between travelling in locals and some other task. Poor simpletons they ignorantly chose to travel in locals without having a clue of what they were getting into. Well it resulted in the poor lady disembarking in the very first station that came after she boarded the train with tears in her eye, filled with fear and clinging to her hubby. Well what do expect when a hundred hands grab your butt and squash your assets.
I know I make it all sound scary but that’s how it is, with people precariously dangling on the doors, crossing tracks when the trains are approaching etc. Believe you me this whole affair is dangerous with occasional deaths taking place every now and then.
So the question the bottom-line is that if it’s as bad as I describe, why do people and even I still travel on it? Well the answer is pretty simple, there is no other fucking option. I hate to say this but locals are not only the cheapest but the fastest way to travel in Mumbai. This 5km distance on car may take 2 hr in some parts whereas 5 min in Locals. So you have speed and you got economy, the golden words that define the criteria for the selection of a mode of transport. No wonder everyday millions travel in Locals. So basically people do not have much option with them, I mean there are buses which are equally cheap but the time constraint is their. Although I hate to admit this but yes they are the best way to travel in Mumbai, only if there were not so many people.
Although I have said a lot of negative things about my experiences with local trains of Mumbai, but there are some good point’s associates with the human beings on boards these. Firstly I have seen and experienced this that at times when the train has pushed of from the station and you are still struggling to get on, people help you to get in squeezing their asses here and there. Also for a newbie like me who is not sure which train will come at which platform and when a particular station would come and on which side, one of the persons around you would be surely willing to help.
Hmmm, to conclude all I’ll say is I salute the people who travel in locals daily and till scientist device a mechanism for human beings to fly, locals would remain the “life line” of Mumbai.