Enjoying the life journey

When I started my career in a small newspaper in Mumbai, I used to stare at the gigantic Times of India building and ask my friend, “When will we land here?”

Land I did in just a year and spent 17 years in that organization, when I realized I could not afford to buy an apartment in the expensive city. We started off with kerosene stoves and one room apartments –No gas cylinder, first class travel, car or AC.

“Go to Gulf,” advised my senior colleague.

“Earn Rs300,000 and return in three years. Buy a house and settle down,” advised my dad. I agreed. I saved Rs300,000 in a couple of years, but the house rates had reached 1 million. I pursued and raised that amount. But the apartment rates had reached 4 million. The school and college fees thumped a big hole in pockets.

Fortunately, perseverance paid and we have now booked a small apartment in Chennai.

“Shall we retire?” I asked my wife.

“You promised to show me at least one other country,” grumbled my wife. “Dad, our college has warned that the fee has to be paid before this month,” warned my daughter.

“Bro, you agreed to visit Switzerland,” said my adopted sister on telephone.

I reached office.

“Boss, is there scope for overtime?

The fun is I am enjoying the moment and challenges.

No pill, take the bill

There are good and bad doctors. I had a taste of both on a single day.

My daughter, influenced by peer group, decided to go for braces to set her tooth in line. A dentist examined her and suggested it would be a waste of effort. She patiently explained to the girl the advantages and disadvantages. After 15 minutes, I asked her about the fee. She politely said, “No need.”

My daughter had also complained of a corn (hard skin) on her foot.

So we moved to another hospital in Rolla, Sharjah.

At the entrance, we were told to pay Dhs210 ($57). An eager doctor took us to a cabin. After a casual examination, he listed suggestions.

“Throw away her present shoes and slippers. Go for Nike or Reebok.”

Surmising what was going on in my mind, he quickly said: “No, not roadside duplicates. Only originals.”

He then named a brand shop. “Go there and buy Mango-butter solution.”

While I was assessing the damage to my purse, he continued: “Buy 15 pairs of white socks. Wash legs with salt water. Maybe, use Vaseline.”

Before we could ask more questions or wait for treatment, he screamed, “Next patient.”

For the money we paid, we could have bought all the items.

We felt so cheated.

Floating in the air

What are the hilarious and touching incidents you came across as a reporter, asked my colleague.

Hilarious? Hmm. I already mentioned this. I remember how I was going to the canteen in my Mumbai newspaper office and a lawyer friend Gopal Punjabi rang up to say abruptly, “I am on the 2^nd floor of a building at Girgaum. I cannot get down from 2^nd floor.”

“What do you mean. Any fire?” I asked.

“No. There’s no staircase.”

What?

It was then I learnt that the landlord had a dispute with tenants and had hired workers to cart away the wooden staircase to harass them. The tenants were literally left hanging in the air.  

Touching incident? Don’t ask me plz. I was travelling from Belapur to Vashi after interviewing a civic official. I entered a State Transport bus which is usually dirty. I managed to enter the bus despite the crowd and was followed by a little boy, who was in rags. He had no shirt and carried a soiled bag. As he stood on the first step, the conductor looked at the boy and said “heyy.” The boy got scared and jumped from the bus which had picked up speed.

The image still floats in my eye of the way he went rolling behind. I shut my eyes and did not know what to do.

They refused to stop the bus despite my screaming. That’s Mumbai.

Is he alive? I dunno.

Whatever, my prayers are ever for you, dear felo.

Night out-Dubai's African attraction

I decided to check out on nightlife in Dubai and landed in an Asian country club (Not India) along with three friends.

“What will you have?” asked my host.

“Fruit punch.”

“You come here to ask for fruit punch,” he mocked, while the music started. A group of full-clad, sad girls on the stage left me not-so-glad, while a singer screamed.

“Do you want to have a taste of African culture?” asked my host, seeing my disappointment, and I readily agreed.

We moved to the ground floor, where an African band was performing and another group of eight African girls adorned the stage.

From the word go, the songs, ambience and smiles took me by pleasant surprise. We repeatedly cheered the singers and they became equally ecstatic. So much so, that an African singer took the mike and declared, “Here’s an Indian song for our Indian friends.” He went on to sing “Dil de diya hai…(Given my heart)” Bollywood song, and we started dancing and cheering louder. Some of the girls on stage repeatedly flashed “Namaste,” making us feel more homely.

Various African folk forms were enacted and the girls changed their attire according to the traditions.

There was no vulgarity in both the places.  

Bill? Don’t ask me. I will faint if asked to pay.

This pain is a gain

Watching films with friends has its own charm. She was a new colleague. Our office in Mumbai was surrounded by cinema houses. “I have a pass for a comedy movie. Wanna join?” she asked. Am I mad to say no? Hey, no mischief OK. A wonderful friend she was, and is. She enjoyed the movie thoroughly, but I did not. Why? For every dialogue, she was laughing out so loud that others would look at me like a cat pricked with a needle. At times, her laughter was like thunder. A dodo even told her, “Volume please.”
When the movie ended, she asked, “Good movie, right?”
“Thunderous comedy,” I replied.
She thought I was talking about the film.
Three of us were at a movie hall and one was an expert in whistling. For every punch dialogue by Rajnikant, the hero, he sent out a loud whistle. The man sitting next to us was a short-tempered dumbo. He kept shouting at my friend. The altercation almost ended in fisticuffs. The fun was lost. I wonder what is fun in a cinema hall without whistles, popcorn sounds and humourous comments. For some it may be a pain, but sometimes pain is gain. Like when muscles ache after exercise..vallah, I enjoy that pain.
Hey, a Mulla Nasruddin joke.
Mulla was returning with wife after interval at the theatre. “Did I step on your tow as I went out?” he asked a man at the end of the row. “You did and not even apologise,” replied the angry man. Mulla ignored him and called his wife, “Ya darling, this is our row.”

Daughter robbed

I had gone to sleep at 1.30am and at 3am the mobile sound shook me up. It was my wife.
“Daughter has been robbed near Pune while traveling from Ahmedabad with classmates early morning. Laptop (with her college IT projects), mobile and credit card (which we had given for emergency purposes) have all been robbed along with her new dresses in the baggage,” she sounded worried.
“Is she and friends OK?” I asked.
“They are fine. The baggage is gone,” she said.
“Block the credit card and mobile,” I consoled her and sent an SMS to daughter, who had another cell gifted by a relative: “Do not worry over material losses. They are meant for our pleasure, not pain.”
I tried to sleep. But it was already sunrise.
Dhond and nearby areas of Pune have been witnessing such train robberies for decades. There has been a clear network involving cops, thieves and politicians. No complaints will be registered at police stations to keep the record straight. When the crying students went to lodge a complaint, they refused to register at Pune station, saying “Go the place where you lost your things.”
Me not surprised. The corrupt system has never changed.
It is like this. Just ask the chief minister of Tamil Nadu to order all autorickshaws (3-wheel taxis) to run on fixed fare meters in Chennai. No chief minister has ever dared so far and never would in the near future. The drivers have been fleecing innocent passengers for decades.
Elementary. The corrupt network is too strong.

The ghostly game

We were talking about a deserted “ghost city.”
“Don’t talk about ghosts. I live with one,” joked my friend, hinting at his wife.
“She told the same thing about you yesterday,” I replied.
The subject refused to end.
“Have you seen a ghost?” he asked.
I have not seen one, but had a ghostly experience in Ooty. I had gone with my inlaws for vacation. Heat is OK for me but not cold. I just shiver even in slightly cooler temperatures.
My sister-in-law was alone when I went to a shop and returned. It was windy and chilly. She had not expected me to return early and peeped through the door glass. I had covered my head and half my face with a shawl. I had removed my glasses and had also applied some skin cream. To cap it all, we had all watched a horror movie the previous night.
“Who?” she asked.
“Mee,” I replied, stuttering in the cold.
“Whooo?” she asked again.
“Meeeee,” my voice refused to rise.
“Whooooooo? This time her face looked like a ghost to me through the dew-covered glass.
I had to spend at least 10 minutes on the who-me game until the door opened.

Friendly airhostess

Choosing Indian Airlines for Dubai-Mumbai turned out to be both foolish and wise. The timing was advanced and the flight merged with Air India. The first thing I noticed entering the plane was the smile-less smile of a middle-aged airhostess (what is news in that? Most AI airhostesses are middle-aged or look so!). She was mechanically saying “Namaste,” looking in some other direction.
Half way through the flight the journalist in me was restless. When another middle-aged airhostess brought water, I cut in asking, “By any chance do you know one airhostess UD?”
“Oh, UD? You din’t know she had a baby recently,” she went off.
Finding her friendly, I started off on a long conversation when a purser also joined us. The Parsi guy was very cheerful. I was seated on the last row of a huge jumbo and hence was quite at ease with the crew.
After a long conversation circling around poor treatment of AI staff and journalists, we were parting on a cordial note. That’s when the airhostess came with two books, “take it as a gift to your child.” The purser followed with more gifts and I was stunned by their affection. I took two pens from my pocket and offered as return gift.
This world is full of lovely people ya. All we need is to open up and share. We can all fly high.
Why it was foolish to travel AI? I was forced to wait nearly an hour for baggage. Imagine with family waiting outside past midnight.
Anyway, all’s well that ends well.
Hey buddies, plz plz plz..pardon me if I don’t comment on your blogs for just a few days. Am wrapping up personal work in Mumbai and going to Chennai next week for a week. You all are always in my mind.

Cook, cooker and pressure

It was lunch time and I had just had a cup of coffee. My stomach was howling with hunger. I decided to prepare Idli (rice cake steamed in a pressure cooker) and switched on the gas stove.
Same story. The phone went alive. This time it was our correspondent from Abu Dhabi. This Lankan colleague is also a great friend. In our chat menu were life in Lanka, India and sweet gossip.
I was telling her how to prepare “lassi” (hey, all you do is mix sugar with curd and stir it...vallah, lassi is ready. How simple!). It was then that I smelt something fishy. Something was burning. I was standing at the balcony this time and cautioned my neighbour “Check your stove, something is burning,” and continued the conversation.
Boomm...After five minutes, I noticed smoke in my kitchen.
Instead of steam hot idli, I had steam hot tension for lunch.
The vessel had to be thrown out. The pressure cooker is not working.
Well, I am busy now, catch you later. I have to try a new dish.

Even my brain worked

Sibling fights come in different forms. When my neighbour’s sons fought, they would tear each other’s shirts and the dad used to scream, “You are tearing my pocket. I won’t buy new dress.”
One boy used to push his elder brother down, put a bed sheet on him and dance over him. The elder brother will then suddenly spring like a lion and bite the younger one. After one hour, they both will be hugging each other.
One little girl used to pinch her elder sister with her nails so hard there will be blood marks on the hands. Not that the elder is innocent. The elder once threatened that she knew a special prayer and that the younger one will get “punished” immediately. She closed her eyes and murmured some words. The younger one got so terrified, she waited until her mother arrived and started crying. Hehe, that’s my darling daughters in action.
About me? I used brain instead of brawn. One of my brothers is a bodybuilder. Once he hit me so hard when we were alone at home, I could not do anything. Then my brain worked. I acted like I had fainted. OMG, you should have seen the royal treatment I got. He gave me water; he prepared special coffee for me and also gave me some money to keep quiet about the incident.
Brainy chap your friend, right?

Not tongue in cheek

The wound caused by fire will heal, but a scar left by tongue never, goes a famous Tamil saying.
I committed two blunders which I regret. There was this man who helped me at the initial stages of struggle in Mumbai. Later he became my boss in the newspaper. One day, we had a heated argument. I am convinced I was right, but the words I used were not.
He refused to pass my voucher for the work on my off day.
“I am not begging. Just pay for my work,” I shouted in a nasty tone.
“But you once came begging for a job. Have gratitude,” he slapped back. Harsh words from both sides. I wish I was more mature.
There was another guy from Kolkata who had always been nice to me. We decided to start a weekly. Five of us joined and the project was going OK. But I got an offer from the Gulf and had to leave.
Quitting a cushy job after 17 years wasn’t easy and I was going through the blues. I could not talk to him properly and the misunderstanding grew.
My apologies failed to convince him.
Buddies, when you get angry, bite your lip, do not let the words out.
Oye, post sounds serious? OK, a joke.
Two boys reached a river. They wondered how to cross. Suddenly they saw their master sitting on a mango tree on the other side. “Boss, how do we reach the other side?” asked one. “You are on the other side,” came the reply. (Thanks Internet)

I ‘acted’ well

Nothing to write. So I was trying to recollect the good old days. And an incident made me laugh.
I was rushing to my newspaper office in the afternoon and reached Vashi railway station in Mumbai. A Tamil film shooting was going on. I had lost touch with Tamil films and asked from the crowds who the hero and heroine were. “Arjun and Meena,” they said.
I saw the actors surrounded by cameramen. I took out my business card, rushed to Arjun. He was a bit tense, but said “Hi” politely. Then I moved to Meena. “Maybe I will take an appointment and meet you later for an interview,” I said. She smiled and took the card.
Next day, when I was walking on the road, the newspaper vendor boy called out, “I did not know you act in films.”
“Who, me?” I asked surprised.
“Ya, yesterday I saw you in the shooting. You acted very well.”

Thy name is hospitality

I can’t believe this ya. She rang up to say we will meet at a mall around lunch time. I was damn hungry. I reached there and was glad to see her at the food court. I told her I will pick up some fried rice for her.
“I will go and pick it up myself,” she replied and vanished.
“Wow, at least some sponsor,” my crooked mind murmured.
She returned with a chicken burger, French fries and Pepsi.
“I am a veggie,” I said.
“Sure you don’t mind my eating,” she questioned.
“No hassle,” I replied.
Grrr. My tummy was hissing. And then I noticed she had started munching.
The burger was gone, the fries were being gulped in seconds and all through there was not a word of “Take it.”
Shucks. I literally watched the glutton celebrating her lunch.
I had to rush alone to a nearby restaurant after she finished her “business discussion” and moved off.
Thy name is hospitality, my friend.
Just remembered. I and my wife were climbing the stairs to our fifth floor Mumbai house. At the third floor, Mr S stopped us. How can you go without having tea? He literally dragged us into his house, when I noticed his wife signaling to him “no milk at home.” He was a jobless man and had a handicapped daughter.
Strange world.

Grin n bear it

The second day after I landed in Chennai recently, I was walking around when I noticed a board “Smile with confidence” at a dentist’s clinic. I promptly smiled and reached home.
I never expected such smiles to come with a price. The very same night I could not sleep as I had severe tooth ache. There was also swelling in the gums.
I had to run to the same clinic.
I was pleasantly surprised as there was only one patient and he too disappeared in a minute.
“Your turn,” informed the assistant.
I entered the dentist’s room. And the smile vanished instantly. There was this man who was not even wearing shoes or slippers. He had folded his pant almost up to knee level. The chair I was asked to sit on was so dirty, I thought of telling him I would prefer to stand. I am not going to tell you about the condition of the needles.
“So what’s the problem?” he asked.
“Your clinic,” I wanted to reply, smiling with confidence. But restricted myself.
God was on my side. There was no need for the doctor to use his unclean equipment.
He saw the swelling, scribbled a few medicines and said “Rs60,” followed by a “Next patient please.” That there was no next “patient victim” waiting is another matter.
PS: Dentists, please don’t gnash your teeth at this post. I have visited several dentists for treatment. These kinds are exceptions.

Merely for a bus seat

I was in Mumbai whole of last week and now going over to Bangalore. Have not been posting comments for sometime now, though my great blog friends have been doing so promptly. A thousand apologies on that. Will do so once I am back in Sharjah in a fortnight. Had a great opportunity for the first time to meet blog friends Pankaj and Nikki. More about Mumbai visit later. A little Chennai experience now.
Men and women are seated in separate sections in Chennai buses. When the women’s seats are vacant, it is common for men to occupy them. I was one among them. As we were almost reaching the suburban destination, I thought there would be no hassle. But suddenly there was a rush of passengers as the preceding bus had halted due to a technical fault. I was surrounded by women in a few minutes, old, young, pretty and sisterly types. I was about to rise to leave way for one of them when the man sitting next to me held my hand and cautioned: “Sit back. We will be crushed in this crowd.” I tried to hang on to my seat with my head down, but could hear nasty comments from some women, “why can’t they get up, fools.” My second attempt too was thwarted by the man. At last, I decided enough was enough, got up and moved on. The man refused to budge, but the four-letter verbal mauling by some women made him relent. He reluctantly got up, looked at me like a man whose new dress had been dirtied by crow shit and stood quietly near me till I got off the bus.