My Trysts With Life

Lucknow: The boy watched the young man get into the taxi. The man looked somewhere around 25-26, looked like he was from a rich family and yet and yet, that man had come forward to ask. The boy wondered why? I was making an unplanned visit to my hometown, somehow managing two days off in the middle of the week ( hey that's difficult for a person working in a private company!). Its a proper chilly November night of Lucknow- one that always leaves you wondering: 'should have worn one more sweater! So now my train reaches at around 3am, leaving me to wait for a pre-booked taxi that somehow wandered off with another passenger. So the scenario is like this: I am waiting on the deserted, foggy road, my teeth chattering and no sign of the godforsaken taxi. So my dear old mind starts looking for something to distract myself from the cold. It is then when I chance upon this boy, sitting on the curb, counting some money. Now this boy(somewhere around 14-15, maybe smaller) is sitti

Ramnagar, Uttrakhand: I looked up- the freshness of the Himalayan water falling on my face. There was dense green cover all around- the loud thump of falling water echoing through the lonely branches. There was only one word to describe this experience: bliss! The busy life of the corporate world starts leaving you with lesser time to do other things- especially when you have Saturdays working. So when an opportunity presented us (me and a few friends) to go on a bike trip (a la`- wild hogs) we grabbed onto it with both hands. So the four of us went wild- quite literally, an expedition to the one of the many waterfalls near the Jim Corbett park region.  Ten minutes into the drive- and I realized that this was one rubber burning experience that had been amiss-driving down with the cool breeze playing with your hair- pure air courtesy the large cedar trees of Haldwani, interspersed with glimpses of the more amiable wild animals- deer, monkeys and the blue birds. The two h

To celebrate the silver post (25th :) ) I am trying my hand at something new. Dedicated to my dear niece! Namaste! Every morning, I wake up with a strange feeling in my stomach. Mumma (and sometimes papa) come and put a bottle to my lips-which contains the magic white potion. This potion makes all the bad feeling in my stomach go away and then I get up, feeling content. As soon as I get up, mumma lifts me up and check at my back for something- never understood what for? She then makes a bad face and takes me to ‘bath’. Then she lets me run about the house- frequently putting something or the other in my mouth every now and then. I love the big black box on the wall- it shows a funny boy who beats up bad people. It also shows this uncle who sings “paani paani” and sometimes a number of uncles who run after a ball. I don’t know why so many people run after a single ball- I have three to play with they can take mine if they want!  I love to roam about in the house-whic

A Small Story that I wrote a few days ago...Thought it fits in the blog. The mail man was staring- transfixed at the site that had just occurred right in front of him. The public transport bus had come to a halt. That blue sedan driver was staring through his wind shield, staring at the bonnet with shock on his face. And then there was this man- dressed n what looked like well to do clothes, sprawled on the sedan’s bonnet-sandwiched between the sedan and his own motorcycle. Suddenly, as a hundred eyes watched, the man slowly lifted his head and looked at the driver.  Five Months Earlier The procession was breaking up.  A few older people were offering a last word of condolences and gradually moving on. Shashwat stood there- thanking everyone for coming. With everyone gone- he went on to look one more time at his family- or rather as he reminded himself- his deceased family. They were there-lying solemnly with each other. How he wished that he could join them, lying

The Village, Banglore: "Sir ji, We provide you the best possible flavors of Paan (Betel Leaves), mixed with the international desi combo, which we call as the Village" These were the phenomenal (and strange) lines delivered to me by the paan vendor, who was apparently cherishing every moment of meeting a UP guy over the infamous Paan. I was on a trip down south- bored by the free time that one gets in the joining period. So I am wandering hither and thither with my friend, when we come across this Indian village themed restaurant- The Village. Let me describe the whole setup- It's a complete village styled location (presumably Gujrati village)- complete with wooden chairs, trucks, a souvenier jail and washrooms that read "Ladeez and Jhantz". Then there's the food- in full prison sized plates- which you can enjoy while sitting on large milk containers. Then there's provisions for "garbha-a 5 step dance" and even a local puppet show. What&

Brother's Bday Bash, Lucknow:   It was one of those not so usual birthday bashes. My cousin brother, the only other HR guy in the family (yes we are a rare breed) was celebrating-ahem, let’s say one of his birthdays. It was one of those rare occasions when all the cousins and second cousins get to be together, divided by the boundaries called "jobs".  So all of us were having a gala time- me of course with my infamous PJs, in full flow. It was when the cake was being cut, when my eyes fell upon that waiter- dressed in all black attire, waiting quietly being one of the counters. At first I did not notice much about him, but it was a certain look of disappointment, of pathos, which later caught my attention. He was a man in his early thirties (maybe a bit more, I am never good with numbers), a crooked nose, and black beetle eyes. But that face- that impassive, unrelenting-what's the best word for it- tragic face made me wonder. So this guy was serving everyone

Somewhere in the skies above New Delhi:   I was aboard the infamous Air India flight, full of trepidation after hearing the various catastrophes about the flight. Now let me describe a little bit about myself- I am inclined towards a stoic (yeah I know a fancy word) kind of a temperament- one that believes in  Karma.  So we (the stoics) believe in come what may and possess the devil may care attitude towards things. So I am on the flight, ruffling the pages of a Christie novel- when the trouble begins. The word "turbulence" might send a shiver down an experienced flier's body. To the inexperienced (me too) this is basically when your plane starts going haywire, up and down and in my case (turning turtle as well). So this is the cue for most passengers to start remembering the oh-so-many Gods and Goddesses. Also, for people like me (the so called stoics) it’s the cue to start observing others. So began the turbulent 15 minutes- one that I will remember for my life.

We all have heard about that adage: "Hard Work is the Key to Success". And of course, most of us must be constantly  reminded of the same by our parents and guardians. A more subtle, adage that goes well with this one goes by like this: "Patience bears the sweetest food". The greatest example of success that I know of, is our very own "Hainnnn" speaking, angry old (once young) man, Mr. Amitabh Bachchan. The people of my age know him as the french cut keeping, KBC hosting, fatherly figure of Bollywood. Ask any middle age aunt and she is guaranteed to go crazy and start repeating names like "Silsila", "Sholay" and "Zanjeer". This particular young man, went from super stardom, to bust and back again- facing the sinusoidal curve called life with gusto and ultimately becoming successful. Well, this particular individual's example is an ideal one- of someone who worked hard, had everything (nearly I guess) and then lost eve