It was my second time at the passport office and I had about my fill of inane governmental procedures in the past few days. I had been sitting in the queue for maybe 2 hrs or so and I was one person away from the window. X, his wife and kid in tow walked up and asked in a very polite and friendly manner if he could just cut in line. Both me and the fellow in front (Y) refused and said it would not be fair to us or the others the waiting in line. Still smiling and very courteously, he said he was only asking because his kid was crying (it was not anymore) and the other lady clerk had said it was ok for him cut the line!!

Y and me basically said tough luck cuz we had seen quite a few people with kids waiting patiently. When Y’s turn came, he just went and got his thing over with. Then it was my turn. There was a slight motion from X to move but I was faster. I looked back and said, “sorry boss, its not fair for you to come”.

X replied (very nicely, I might add): “No, I am being courteous to you. I have a written permission to cut in line..”

Me: “please try” (hoping for support from the clerk or others in the line)

But the dumb asses kept quiet. My work was done before X’s and I walked away. But his retort of being courteous to me and the passive response of the sheep sitting in line opened up a wound somewhere.

Where do these people get-off asking for our sympathy citing kids? Didnt they think about these silly little details before humping each other without protection? Are they doing the world a favour by reproducing, they are a few thousand years late for that? When you make a decision to have a kid, should you not think about these downsides. The little bastard will get sick, it will make a bloody nuisance of itself. If the kid makes travelling hard, bloody learn to stay indoors. There is a chance you will go broke trying to rear it and for all you know, in a few years time, it may just kick you out of your house!!!

But, we still go right ahead and make babies. Its because (as I have heard) of that supreme joy you feel when the precious bundle laughs or hugs you, the elation at watching your kids take the first step, the wonder of watching him/her make the same mistakes that we made and forgot long ago, it affords us the motivation to turn up every morning to a lousy job, the challenge of empowering them to go achieve their dreams and then maybe yours too, the comfort of knowing they may well stand by you in your time of need, the satisfaction of watching him/her grow into a better person than you ever were. All this and more is supposed to make up for the kicking and screaming. What then gives these people the right to impose their ‘baby-problems’ on the rest of society? What makes it acceptable to the rest of us? Why should it make me feel like a jerk for having tried to friggin stop someone from cutting in line!!!

Boy: Saab, neeche gaadi khadi hai, aap ka hain na?
Me: Haan
Boy: Toh, gaadi wash karu?
Me: nahi boss
Boy: nayi gaadi aapka hain na?
Me: haan, gaadi hamari hain
Boy: toh gaadi koun wash karega?
Me: car wash nahi chahiye. gaadi chali jayegi (trying to imply we were just using it for the day)

The boy walked away disappointed.

When SKN heard this, he said, “Dekha, yeh Mumbai hai. Bees minute hua hain hamko undar aake. This fellow has noticed the new car, found out the details from the watchman and has come here asking for work. Sirf Mumbai mein hota hain.

]]> http://runningaway.wordpress.com/2008/05/23/only-in-mumbai/feed/ 0 runningaway http://runningaway.wordpress.com/2008/05/22/back-to-bollywoodland/ http://runningaway.wordpress.com/2008/05/22/back-to-bollywoodland/#comments Thu, 22 May 2008 18:25:02 +0000 runningaway http://runningaway.wordpress.com/?p=29 ]]> My ears grew cold at the blast of air hitting me. I looked around for the knob to increase the temperature on the AC. A big sign that read, ‘National Institute of Industrial Engineering’ glared back at me as I raised my head and looked ahead. It brought back memories of bygone times, I had written an entrance test to join their PG Diploma course. I smiled slowly as I recollected that day. I did not have a clue about the exam, damned paper was filled with calculus questions. Besides, my only preparation was half a day flipping through R.S.Agarwal’s book for aptitude questions. Infact, I remember submitting my answer booklet before time and people looking at me like I was a freak!!

My thoughts ran back a few kilometers where I had seen the directions to ‘SEEPZ’. S… Wherever you are, I envy you. She lived in Mumbai for a couple of years, I think. So many faces, so many memories…… There’s couple of kids playing with a baby on the side of road, the small kid squeals in joy as the kids run up and down the street. Then my thoughts flitted back to L&T which I had just passed. H… cooling his heels in Goteberg as I type this. I wondered how things would have worked out for me if I had accepted that offer from Jacobs instead of *****. Then on to C, P and a thousand others working on their dreams in the city of dreams… I envy all of them.

My hands and legs were scratched. Bless my $10 jeans from Walmart, they prevented any serious damage. My helmet had protected my head once more. My shoulders were sore. I pulled out the phone, called up G and told him I would not make be making it to dinner. He offered to come help, I refused. It would be pointless since he was so far away and I seemed okay except for the scratches. The vehicle however was far from okay. The mud guard was bent. I had to kick it back into place. It made a grating noise every now and then. Most shops were closed so I drove back home slowly. I cleaned myself up and walked down the lane to the neighbourhood hospital. In between phone calls from concerned friends, I got a Tetanus shot. But the evening was far from over for me.
I set-out once more, this time in the car to meet up with them.

Epilogue:

The bike was repaired for a whopping 2K. The fork on the front wheel was broken and they have welded it. It will probably last until the next time I drive it again .

The streets were busy but I didn’t pay too much attention. I wandered around slowly in the general direction of the airport. It was a fairly humid day and my shirt was soaking wet by the time by the time I got there. Airtel has provided free Wi-Fi internet connection at the CSIA and so I settled down in a corner to check some mail. You don’t just start-up and browse, it’s a little strange. You enter your cell number on the log in page and they SMS a username and password for you to log in!!!

Things went a little awry yesterday. My Bangalore – Mumbai flight was delayed by 30 min, which meant that catching my connecting flight to Jamnagar was going to be difficult. There were no other flights that day and because of my ‘fare category’ they could not endorse my ticket on another airline either. Thankfully, they agreed to refund the complete fare. After some frantic running around and checking with other airlines, we found that Deccan was our only alternative. But they were charging premium fares for last minute bookings. We bit our tongues and booked it anyway. But when we landed in Mumbai, our Jamnagar flight was also delayed. We ended up reaching there at 14.30 instead of 12.00 noon.

The terminal was packed full as all flights were delayed due to ‘very heavy air trafffic’ (or so they told us). We entered Jamnagar in style though, in a Honda CRv no less (SKN’s contact was nice enough to pick us up). We went to his factory, then onto another factory. It was already 17.00 by then. We got to eat this delectable Gujarati snack called ‘Daabeli’. OMFG!! It was well worth skipping lunch. I remembered I had not eaten anything since the horrible sandwich at the airport. No wait, I also ate a soggy omelette on the plane. Anyways, back to ‘Daabeli’, it was basically some potato and masala sandwiched in between two pieces of a bun. My mouth waters at the very thought of it.

After that more work till 20.30. We went back to the first factory where SKN caught up with his old acquaintances. We missed out on a night of partying and ‘dandiya-watching’ (would have been another first for me) because of a goof-up on the travel itinerary by yours truly. We had to leave for Rajkot the same night. We had a half deaf old chap for a driver who took his time to get us to Rajkot. I don’t remember the name of the hotel, but we went around in circles a few times before we found it. Hundreds of people were out and about in their festive best. It was 23.30 and the hotel clerk told us that things were just getting started. We were way too tired and wanted to hit the sack. Plus, there was the early morning flight back.

Some of you may remember a mail that I sent about a year ago about my first day at work. I was all gung-ho about being handed a project that I thought was right up my alley. Talk about running around in circles, guided as I was by different visions. Last week, there was a mail from the manufacturing head asking us (R&D) about the progress.
We (me and the boss) moved into evasion mode. I drafted a suitable mail and we went over the draft a few times.My boss’s boss also supported us and I sent a reply disowning our responsibility and highlighting their goof-ups. Not my proudest moment, but I hung in there giving all sorts of excuses to myself. Subsequently, they replied diplomatically and there the matter lay.

This afternoon, the HR lady asked me speak to people from some consulting/training agency. They needed inputs for some training program. I had a one on one with one of them about what I have been doing, the challenges and hurdles I have faced. At the start of the discussion I remarked to him that ours would be a short discussion since I actually did very little managing (there were two others speaking independently with two more managers). In the end, it turned out that the others had finished and were actually waiting for us. Although, it was more about him getting inputs about our style of work and our constraints, it raised some red flags in my head.

After that I went to have lunch where I met one of our VPs. As I greeted him, he remarked that he is fine as long as I dont send anymore ‘dirty’ mails. I kept silent knowing full well what he was referring to (he was CCd on the mail I referred to earlier). He was silent for another second and then he shuddered and said, “how can you send something like that? anyway, I will speak to you later”. He left as I sat down in a corner. The guilt from last week, the red flags from earlier in the afternoon and NR’s comment… they have been haunting me ever since.

I have contemplated going back to school, changing jobs, giving everybody involved a piece of my mind, or plain just talking it out with the boss….Thought about talking to some of you, the cell was not close but the laptop was… I have been typing away ever since.

I don’t exactly remember how it all began, but I found myself in the driver’s seat of an Ambassador car (I know, What the F!!) . The car was not moving, it was parked right outside my house. It was one of those crisp early mornings, just after sun-up. The streets were deserted except for the odd stray dog. I watched my Dad through the windshield as he came came out onto the porch to switch-on the pump to the overhead tank.

I was wearing one of my trusty old cotton – T’s and shorts. I had a cleaning rag in my hand and I was wiping the dust off the steering wheel. The car was a proper broken down hunk of metal. I seem to recall a sweeping aerial view of the old thing, rusty footboards and all. The next thing I remember is that I was trying to roll-up the windows in order to lock the car. I wanted to go take a shower and carry on to work. I can remember thinking about what I wanted to do when I got to work. In the back of it all, there was a strange feeling of something amiss.

One of the car doors would not close. I cursed and grabbed a screw driver from the dashboard. I sat down on my haunches and began to fiddle with the locking mechanism. Next thing I know, I heard a white Esteem pull up (No, I did not look. I just knew. I own an ambassador!!! its a frigging Nightmare moron, that how I know….)

Out walks a girl dressed very traditionally with her mother tagging behind. There’s something familiar about her. I stand up to see who it was. She walks right up to me, and then the ‘mom character’ says, “Take your husband’s blessing”!!!

(If this were on TV, there would be a ‘short commercial break’ right now)

I try to step back, I cant. My feet seem to have turned to lead. Then she looks up or atleast her face came into view………. I’m smitten. She’s just about the most beautiful thing I ever saw. She was bloody radiant!! I try to say something, but my ears dont hear any sound. She smiles, and I take flight.

I hear some noise coming from general direction of the mom – character. She was saying something about some pooja/ritual. Then suddenly, a bloody miracle, I can move!!!

I turned to see the blank wall staring back at me. I said, “SHIT” as I sat up.

It all came together yesterday afternoon when I decided to take the
opportunity to visit Visvesvaraya Iron and Steel Limited (VISL),
Bhadravati. Work has been a little too monotonous these past few
weeks. The Iron Maiden concert a couple of weeks ago was the only
respite.

Appa was going to drop me off till the main road and then I was to
catch an auto till the train station. Except, when we got there we
thought I should just take the bike and park it in the station for a
couple of nights. So, we came back home to drop him off and then I
left. I drove for all of 2 minutes before the blasted scooter stopped.
I could not get it started. I called Appa and told him I was headed
back home. I pushed it along for a while before trying the ignition
again. ‘Billions of blue blistering barnacles’, she works!!! (smart
eh, do you get the reference? My nod to Monsieur Herge)

I drove back home (I was only a street away) to tell Appa. We went
back to the original plan and I caught an auto till the train station.

I had a good hour to kill before the train departed so I was strolling around the platform. Who should I run into? K’s dad!!! The poor old sod was supposedly coming to town for the weekend and uncle was there to pick him up. We chatted for a few minutes until the train
came. Out came our gentle giant in his trademark checked baggy shirt,
earphones dangling around his neck. He was surprised to see me and his first words after saying hi was, “hopeless fellow neenu Chennai ge hogtidiya?” I said I was headed in the other direction to Bhadravati….

The signs, they speak of good things for this weekend.

I even had the chance to get my fill of some really good music (needless to say, alcohol too ;o)). It didnt really go to my head until I came out the place. You would think, that a couple of mugs of beer and a couple of Tom Collins ought to do the job… guess I was too excited…

We did a round of confessions first and then shared our dreams of where we see ourselves in five years time. As cliched as the question sounded, we were not being interviewed by some stiff. It was with ppl I am most at home with.

Surprise, surprise, I have a rather grim view of things to come. I was really embarassed  when I found out that the guy at the next table heard us too. It turned out he used to be  a hot shot cricketeer who had coached Karnataka’s under 15 – 17 teams, been a part of the Ranji tropy winning team and now is a successful businessman. He was entertaining some German clients along with his friend. It was fun talking to them. One of the German guys even ventured to draw me his version of my Good times Vs. Life graph.

I should be hitting the sack now… until next time…