I speculated over and over again, before deciding to move back to Bangalore. It was never gonna be easy after four long ‘independent’ years or shall I say, ‘The Frenzy’ years. Me and my best friend brainstormed about all the possible problems I would face. We obviously came out with an overflowing list of negatives and some positives. Having to think about living a better life, it was always a best bet to come back to the city where I spent most of my life and where, probably, I would decide the next course of my life.
Changes happened and happened all too soon. Ten days now, and am ready with a list of ‘Before’ and ‘After’.
Before
Wake up, heat water, iron clothes, make tea, fresh up and leave!
After
Wake up, switch on TV, read paper like to mug up all columns, steaming hot tea served, ask the geaser to be switched on, freshen up, yell at mom for not ironing the clothes, move to breakfast table, complain about having idli and chutney everyday, frown and get out of the house.
Before
Gather friends, book tickets for 10 pm show, spend Rs 200 on a good dinner, head to theater, enjoy or crib about the movie, head for coffee at 1 am, yap yap yap and go to bed.
After
1 PM: call home no matter where. Answer the following questions:
Where are you?
What are you doing?
Whom are you with?
When will you be back?
8 PM rush from wherever you are at the maximum speed to get home quick. On the way, think about the possible excuses. Jammed traffic, cheh! traffic jam on Hosur road. Met a friend, went for a coffee. Naaa… then will have to say who, why, what. Decided: Traffic Jam it is!
9 PM: Reach home and start swearing at the city roads, autorickshaws, cops and all possible creatures on earth. Make no eye contact. Rush to the room, change and order for dinner to be served. All eyes on me.Simply ignore maadi. Turn towards niece and start playing with her. Within ten mins tension in the air is eased. Wait for the statement, “Better be early next time!” Nod, smile and pat urself ;)
Before
Wednesdays & Saturdays were a blast. Wednesday: Ladies night. Hit the pub at 8, get a drink, enjoy the karaoke, sing along, dance along, shake that ass man, bully friends, feel happy feel sad or vice versa and head back to your messy room where clothes are all around. Dump them on the wash basket and snore.
After
Wednesday: Be a good daughter and help around the household. Dad, mum – happy. Me: So very Happy (Grrrr)
Saturday: Temple, Pooja and Cooking. All set for the Future wife to be. (Fiiish)
A morning of laziness, anxiety and restlessness pounded my head on this ‘eventful’ day. Trying to keep my mind away from various thoughts, I was moving around the house listening to loud and thumping music. Aimlessly, wandering and hopping around, my phone buzzed and all of a sudden, I decided to pack my bag and leave to Bangalore.
I took the only available last-seat-ticket in an AC Volvo bus. I boarded that bus that evening and the minute I entered, I knew I had to walk all the way up to the back. The last row had five seats conjoined. On right, I saw a middle-aged man, well dressed in formals seated near the window and next to him was another old man. Desperately wanting the window seat, I looked to my left and saw a young specky chap sitting at that window seat. The last thing I wanted was to sit between three men. Certainly impossible, I asked the chap very politely if you could have the window seat. The guy obliged without much hesitation. This was not the first time I was travelling alone surrounded by men. So, having four men beside me wasn’t very scary.
Bus moved. I settled down quickly and was happy to get the corner seat. Settling my baggage in the side of the seat, I sat and looked outside the window. A little later, uncle at the other end broke the silence and said, “Bus arrived an hour late. What time do you think we will reach Bangalore?” I didn’t quite know at whom the question was shot. I turned to look at him. The young chap then said maybe ninish. As the conversation built, the man began to ask the guy about his job profile. What’s with old people and their curiosity about where you work and how much you earn? I thought. While uncle was talking, I noticed that he made eye contact with me a couple of times. I quickly turned my head to the left and looked out of the window trying to avoid unnecessary mundane conversation. A few minutes later the guy next to me asked “Why did you opt for the last seat?” I turned to him and said, “last minute booking’. He grinned and explained how he had booked the ticket a day before and still ended with the last seat. We smiled and I turned to the window again. Uncle probably felt a little ignored now. He asked the guy few more questions. I didn’t bother to lend a ear. Instead I began digging into my back pack to search for the ipod. Unable to find it, I frowned and sat back staring at the window. Then the guy took out a pack of cashews and offered it. I promptly declined! He insisted, I again, declined! He then said, “It’s healthy you know”. I was scared that if I didn’t take atleast one the guy would go on offering me cashews for the rest of the night or kill me with the ‘healthy eating habits’ tips. So, I took one and turned to the window again. He then asked me the intro questions like Where, When and How. I answered in short.
Silence prevailed for a few minutes. Getting bored and hungry, I began to yawn non-stop. He immediately said he didn’t have the habit of sleeping in bus. Well then… I said, “You can watch my baggage kept in the side”. He smiled acting like he didn’t get the sarcasm. After sometime, he asked me if I read books and had any interesting book with me. I said I do read but am not carrying any. From there on the conversation went hay wire and suddenly he started talking about the importance of history. I didn’t quite agree with a couple of points and hence we debated for about 15 mins when he said, “History is to be analysed and changed”. Analyzing for sure but what was with changing it. How would one rewind to centuries back and undo the events in the past like the world wars or the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I concluded saying, ‘you are just brilliant!’. My second sarcasm of the night. This time he probably got it as silence prevailed for sometime. At about 10 pm the bus came to a halt for dinner break. Hating to step out and eat alone, I decided to go to sleep instead. The chap got up and pulled up his jeans began to stretch. “U coming down?” he asked. I looked at him and said ‘errr…. Noo’. He swung his arms and left to grab a bite. My instinct told me that the guy was a little tricky and hence decided to ignore him. I put the blanket over me and pretended to sleep. In about 15 mins, he was back. “Excuse me”, he said. I didn’t bother to open my eye. He said that again and this time I responded. He now offered me a fruity bottle! I gave him a weird look. He said, “Never go to bed empty stomach”. I didn’t know if I was to laugh at his generosity or to yell at his gutsy move on a girl travelling alone. Deciding to play safe, I said ‘Ohh.. I don’t want it. Thanks a ton though.’ He then gave me gyaan on how not to skip dinner or at least not go to bed empty stomach.
Thoroughly uninterested, I gave a frowned thinking it wasn’t necessary to argue. So, I turned to the window again. He left the bottle in the seat pocket and gave a self intro. “Hi…I am a Mr. P, A techie working for…blah”. I said ‘That’s wonderful’. You? he asked. I said my name and then told him I was extremely sleepy and had no intention to entertain him. He apologized for being a prick. ‘Don’t forget to watch my bag. Good night!’ I said and covered my head with the blanket. I didn’t really fall asleep. As the seats were so close, every time the bus took a turn, our shoulders rubbed against each other and I ensured that I kept to the extreme right almost putting my entire weight on the window. I acted like I was dead to the world under the cover. Just then the bus went over a massive pot hole jolting us left, right & center. My neck kinda sprained, so I changed my position and put my head on the left. Quickly, he said : “How can you sleep in this seat, its highly uncomfortable?” I told him for me it didn’t matter. Of course it did matter. But shaking vigorously and painfully was much more bearable than his petty talks, I thought.
Next, I decided to keep my head only to the right no matter the pain. A couple of phone calls and then I fell asleep. Really asleep, this time. Suddenly, I felt something creeping on my forehead. The lizard phobic that I am I thought it was that dirty long thinge. I quivered and got up in a shock. I realized that the yucky creepy long thing was his finger that was fiddling with my hair fringes. I sat up straight and said aloud, “what the hell are you doing”? Unmoved and remaining calm, he said, “Was trying to put your hair back as it was falling on your face. Thought it will disturb your sleep. Now I began to tremble. I didn’t know how to respond in the situation. If I yelled at him, the crowd in the bus would know, next morning when I wake up and descend the bus, all eyes will follow me and pity me. If I asked for a change of seat, I would have to get off the bus. What was I to do? Screm, Calm or Slap?
Clutching my fist and controlling my anger, I pointed a finger right to his eye and said, “Keep your hands to yourself and don’t try any dirty tricks. I don’t want to embarrass you in front of the whole crowd.” I said in a bitter tone. The guy apologized. I starred back and turned away. I could hear loud snores, some sounding like a elephant growl and some sounding like a bus whistle. It was about 2 pm and I was wide awake as the thought of sleeping scared me. What if he tried this, what if he tried that, I kept asking myself. For a long time, the guy didn’t make any move or utter a word. I thought things were finally in place and there was no reason for worry. Just then the guy came close to my ears, I could feel the hot air hitting my left side and then he whispered. I turned to him abruptly and said aloud, What? This time caring less for my fellow travelers. He came up with a blinder, “I like you. I really mean it.” He said boldly.
Now… my anger crossed all limits. “You nuts??? That’s the quickest proposal ever on earth. I am sorry not a very impressive line. You got anything better? Nonsense!” I howled. “Am sorry, am sorry. Relax, I know you didn’t like what I said, but I am serious. I’ve never met someone like you. I like the way you talk.” he whispered again.
My tounge tied, I didn’t know what more to say and shut his gob. I sighed and then in a split second I shoved my gold ring on his face and said, “DUDE, AM ENGAGED! NOT THE RIGHT CANDIDATE TO HIT ON MIND YOU’, I said and turned away. Wanting to see his reaction, I looked at him. I was amazed at my impromptu creativity. I was beginning to get a kick out of this now. He made a puppy face, put his head in between his thigh, grabbed his head from back from both hands and sat like that for nearly two minutes. I began to laugh at his perfect take 1 shot.
I turned right and started laughing my gut out. Maan, this guy has some balls, I thought. Then there was silence for a long time. My face covered with the blanket, I kept laughing at the situation. I looked at my ring and gave it a peck. A 6-old-gold ring that dad bought me on passing of Xth standard never seemed so valuable prior to this.
Having things under control now, I was beginning to sleep. Hold on, not yet. “Can I ask you something?” came the voice. At this point, I wished I could jump off the window. In total disgust, I removed the sheet from my head and asked “Now what?”
“Is it forced or chosen?” Now, for the love of God, leave me alone, I screamed. The man in front of me woke up in a shock. He stared at both of us like giving a warning or something. We remained quiet and waited for him to yell. But he quietly went back to his dream world without uttering a word. Thanks for the help neighbour! I told myself.
Mr P then said: “Tell me, I will not bug you after this” he promised. I yelled, “Chosen, Chosen, Chosen”.
Now the bus braked all of sudden. Oh my, was I that loud? I didn’t dare to lift my head up. Pretending it wasn’t me I put my head down for a few seconds and then realized a little later that the bus had stopped for a pee break. I sighed!
Mr P was now ready with his next question. “Really? You love him? May be its an infatuation”. Wow, I forgot when was the last time I had so much patience in me. I said in anguish, “Are you trying to break my marriage?” “If you are not interested in the affair then, yes!” he said. This time I laughed right on his face. He looked confused and was taken aback. Gaining some control, I asked him what he would do if it was a genuine love marriage.”
Now, he pretended to be thinking and said in a tough tone, “I’ve a knife!” The smile on my face vanished in a jiffy and I almost fell on the helpful gentleman in front of me. I mumbled, trembled and chuckled. All possible thoughts came to my head. My bloody body with stabs, photographers enjoying the Kodak moment and cops measuring the body length and stuff. God save me, I prayed.
Acting tough, I said, “Listen, you are off your mind and trying to scare me with a knife is the least you can do. These are some symptoms of insomnia. You really need some sleep or at least I desperately do” I said and covered myself again. Knife is all I could think of and my blood stained body.
From then on the journey passed off peacefully without any more drama. I fell asleep, sound asleep. Next when I opened my eyes, I found myself in a Dhaba. Panicked and breathless, I sat straight up trying to figure where I was. Soon I realized, I was still in the bus and that I had stuck my face to the window and the bus had stopped for chaai paani in front of a Dhaba. Heaving a sigh of relief, I suddenly remembered Mr P. I slowly turned towards him and saw that he was in deep sleep. “Huh, I don’t sleep in the bus”, I laughed at his statement. Then, I dug all the sections of my backpack and found my Ipod. I quickly put on the ear phones and played the music loud out the fear that he would wake up and start some random bullshit again. In about half an hour from then, destination Bangalore arrived. Taking the ear phones off, I picked my bag and was ready to get off. I said excuse me and and sneaked past his legs without saying a word. I got off, went to get my suitcase from the boot. When I turned, after picking the suitcase, Mr P was standing there waiting for me. Now, I was all set to blow off at him. He said, “Chalo lets go.” I dropped the suitcase down, folding my hands and said, “Just leave and don’t bother about me”. He said, “I thought we were going in the same rick.” I told him that he had dreamt of it and I never striked any such deal.
I called for an auto, threw my suitcase inside and ordered the auto guy to leave. Mr P stood there looking at the auto departing and waving. I put my back pack aside and started laughing loudly recapping the whole episode. The auto guy stopped to ask if everything was alright. I said yeah all was well. He probably thought I was a loco and I was thinking what an jerk Mr P was J
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Little, Swalpa, Konjam, Ithiri, 'Extra Spice’
‘Spice up your life man!’ was one of the most commonly used catch phrase during college. It was the easiest way to coax your friends for a movie or for a late night party. Then, I loved this wacky statement, as I thought it was just a kick ass line that could empower anyone.
Strangely, now, I hear this phrase from a certain sect of people over and over again. These are people who are supposedly in a ‘relationship’ or are ‘married’ to the one they thought was very special. Whenever, I raise a few questions about the authenticity of marriage, my married friends say, "Chillax gal, everybody needs some extra spice in life'!
The other day, I read this news bit about a techie who smothered his wife to death in Bangalore and then killed himself. The guy, a infy geek, had apparently suspected his wife’s fidelity and had pictures of her with her ‘alleged’ boyfriend gathered. On gaining substantial evidence, he resorted to this extreme step.
Ah, nope, I am not writing this in support of the guy nor due to any empathy towards the gal. Their story just gave me the right news peg for my next blog. ‘Fidelity’, ‘illicit relationship’ “extra-marital affairs’ are all quite fancy but a dangerous predicament. Of late, I have come across a lot of married couple, who are not quite content with their marriage. Be it a love marriage or an arranged marriage, both forms seem to be taking a beating. Some of the common reasons: “You never give me my space”, “You think I didn’t notice you ogling at your friend’s girlfriend”, “you don’t satisfy my wants completely”, “Having a fuck all sex life”, “I meet my husband once a year”, “She doesn’t keep my mum and dad happy!” and the best of all is “Unfortunately, I found my true love after marriage”!
Well, seems like genuine problem all of them. So where lies the solution? Divorce? Hmm… may be, but not exactly. Believe me, that’s not even an option these guys think about. For such couple, everything else is genuine than a divorce. I am quite sure, its not that they still believe, marriage is a ‘janam janam ka’ bond and stuff. They know that filing for a divorce, attending those meaningless counceling sessions, paying the lawyer everyday for his chai paani and worse waiting for a minimum of four years for a legal separation! Uff... that’s indeed quite a lot of work! An extra-marital affair now, seems like the next best bet.
Are you wondering why I say this? Everyone has a problem or two with their spouse. However, the reason at times ain’t just strong enough to separate from each other completely. It is possible to manage and live with each other despite these differences keeping in mind the family sentiments and the brutal societal treatment. But how? Huh… “just add some extra spice machii!”
Afterall, who would mind a double dhamaka offer? A 24-hr maid service at home or a chalta phirta male companion as a symbol of security is no harm right? And for your other requirements, there’s always room for another person who can fulfill the needs that your dear husband or wife is unable to.
Now, this is exactly the kinda spice that pisses me off. People don’t realize that these spicy ingredients, gives way to physical and mental abuse, depression, trauma for family, mental block in children and so on so forth. I believe, it is really not bad, to call off such a lose-hanging relationship and start afresh. If nothing helps in a steady married life, its better to call it off. But that’s exactly where the crux of the problem is. Its not practical for someone to wait for six years to get a legal separation. So in which case all the above spice is automatically added.
So then what is the solution? Blame the Judiciary? Blame the culture? Blame the society? Or yourself, for choosing ‘the one’. Difficult to answer and depressing to think. Its tough to take a call.
