The little but Great Guy

This one is a real incident and unarguably the one which made me think over and over again.

I had to pick up a delivery from Nehru Place. I reside in Gurgaon. On that particular Saturday rather than taking Delhi Metro I decided in favor of DTC to Badarpur, and I never knew that this ride will provide an everlasting impression.

I boarded the DTC at Gurgaon Bus Stand, the bus was an interstate to Badarpur border. Just after boarding the bus I reserved a seat for myself by keeping my bag as an authority sign. Next I moved towards the conductor, those who are unaware of the fact let me tell you in Delhi Transport Corporation buses the conductor does not come to you for ticket it is your duty to get a ticket from him/her. The conductor seat is just behind the rear gate of the bus. While standing there I saw this kid for the first time, I was purchasing my ticket and he was standing along side me. He may be 7-8 years old, dressed casually but not fashionably in a half sleeves shirt, shorts and sandals. First time I saw a kid whose footwear did not have any cartoon character on them. While I was counting the change, the kid asked for one ticket and conductor told him to go back to his mother and ask for a change of 2 rupees. The kid bluntly replied my mother don’t have any change. The conductor rebuked him and made him go for the change against his wishes. He came back with the required change in a flash, got his ticket and went back. The conductor commented targeting me that kids these days are over smart. I totally agreed with him and provided one or two remarks of my own to convey how innocent and obeying I was at his age.

Bus moves to its destination, and as it is a real incident nothing special happened till MB road. When the bus was on Mehrauli Badarpur road (MB road) the kid made two quick visits to driver requesting him to stop the bus at Batra hospital. My seat was just behind driver seat, so when the kid came second time both he and I got irritated as we both knew that Batra Hospital is a decided stop for that route. My irritation was more aggravated due to the early encounter. I shifted my gaze to see that the kid and his mother were just behind my seat, and from there they can easily reach to the front door when their stop comes as the bus was almost empty. I told myself that this kid is overly hyperactive and once he grows up he will definitely be a troublemaker.

Finally the Batra hospital stop arrived and driver working at his best abilities stopped the bus in middle of the road. The kid and his mother along with his infant sibling in her lap were at the front door. Driver opened the door and the kid shouted at him, actually ordered him to stop the bus at the side of the road. Bus driver being the insensitive creatures they all told him to get out of his bus quickly, which he and his mother did. It is the moment when they deboarded the bus and I saw the infant child through the window I realized what a huge mistake I committed by considering that 8 year old kid as a naughty one. His brother was frail beyond imagination and was suffering from a horrible skin infection, due to which her mother could not displace the little kid a lot. She was holding her child with all the motherly care a lady can gather. The other kid, the elder brother he was responsible for all the other errands which may seem infinitesimally small but were huge in the stature considering the responsibilities he was carrying on his tiny shoulders at the age where he should be enjoying on someone else’s shoulders.

More than 15 days have gone by since this encounter happened but still the kid comes to me in my thoughts and says listen you big guy you may be a lot older than me in age but I am the greater one because I help my mother to take care of my brother. My mother used to tell me that some kids grow wiser quickly due to circumstances. I agree with you mummy.

I don’t know

Are you the one who always answer a question, whether or not you know the answer?

If your answer to above question is yes, then  please read further. If you think that you are helping people by satisfying their every question then here is the reality check  the only need you are satisfying is your own. The need to collect brownie points by imposing yourself as encyclopedia. The fault is not all yours. Everybody have acquaintances who are quite popular in their peer group due to knowledge spectrum they have, and willingly or unwillingly you take the same road despite having a lesser bright spectrum. Who is to blame if envy is your capital vice.

Reading habit, a decent memory, and most importantly ability to cook up a story on the fly helps a lot in making a heap of brownies in your backyard. Years pass without your ignorance to any question asked or not asked from you. It is a feel good factor having a small yet faithful “You Know All” fan club. One day comes when the wall whose every brick symbolize someone’s trust in you, will start having cracks in it. More importantly it happens to be the wall which can’t be rebuild once it collapses. This is how the cracks can come…

“Answer all” habit is quite addictive. You don’t realize that their is stranger in the usual crowd today, and he may know the actual factual answer. As some query arises you start cooking the solution and delivering it fresh from the barbeque. The stranger observes that deliverable is pork yet watches you delivering beef. At first he remains astonished and silent, later he digests your pork and then tell all other customers that actually beef was on the menu today. No point arguing because being a fast operator and smooth talker does not make you pragmatically correct. So cook tastes embarrassment, moreover the shield of faith in him gets a dent.

Like above a catalyst is not always needed to hinder a cyclic chemical reaction, sometimes one of the chemical decides to explore further. This scenario is far more worse than the one mentioned above. You told a story, afterwards one of your faithful recipient just got to know about a thing named google. Being a blind follower of your revelations he knew that google will tell the same he already knows; the knowledge that you imparted. He matches your facts with the ones he got from a search engine and here comes a small earthquake of 4 on Richter scale. At first your flock member will despise himself upon having a doubt on you, but further exploration on different topics and with different people  the situation aggravates. The earthquake causes a Tsunami which washes away the castles of the trust which was put upon you. Probable exploration by some chemical may lead to explosion, so be cautious.

Before the trust word completely vanishes from your world start saying I don’t know at least when you actually don’t know. There is no harm in saying it even if you know. At last you knowledge is your property. Potential benefits of saying I don’t know:

  • People consider you a normal human being who has a trait of being little bit ignorant. They be more nice with you, it is the best benefit of being normal. After all no one hates a normal i.e. simple guy/girl.
  • Your mind finds peace which was long overdue.
  • You can actually give more focus to the areas in which you actually want to be knowledgeable.
  • If you answer less, then you get more answers. Remember in the class if nobody used to answer a particular question, then teacher used to provide a detailed illustrated solution to it. Akin to that in this tradeoff by not lying and keeping mum you are getting truth.
  • I don’t know is the best answer you can give to people with whom you don’t want to interact. Use IDK for every query they fire on you, soon they will realize your intentions. You didn’t fire a bullet and you killed the fly.

If you also suffer from the disease of  “Answer em All”, and agree with what I have written above. Then start practicing I don’t know.

Do not be confident unless you are competent.

Sincerity of the south Indian love

There was a quite famous blog (An Open Letter to a Delhi Boy) written by self proclaimed Madrasan last year, which shocked many egos. I liked it, it inspired me. As I myself have seven months in South India under my belt, I would like to present a little glimpse of  it as seen from my eyes.

My friend Gurpreet has three things on his mind; Love, Chennai-ites (I find madrasi offensive), and food. Lets just ignore the third one, and mix up the love and superclass of Chennai i.e. South India. Deep down we all know south Indians are more sincere than us if not anything else, and there lies a veracity in their love or being more peculiar the way they express it.

I saw a south Indian unmarried couple sometime ago, well it is a rare sight in Gurgaon. At first glance they didn’t look like that they were on a date or something, because in NCR eyes a date means an over-glamored girl with an over-pretentious guy in an over-hyped environment, not to mention the expenses over a date are always overboard.  Well I assume they came there straight from office and silently sharing a plate of pav-bhaji. No hands on ass, no kisses on neck, yet they were  enjoying their last evening of 2011 as they were the only two survivors of the planet. The sincerity of the south Indian love encapsulated them from the world full of vulture visionaries.

I saw one of the similar variety on the Thiruvanimayur local station in Chennai. They were together but maintaining a distance, after all railway platform are not the platforms to showcase public display of affection. Train came they sat, and that what is important if they get seats they sit, if they get one unfortunately, the boy shows his respect and let the girl sit. What happens in Delhi metro we all have seen or many of us have done. The position of a couple at platform and in train, in analogous to foreplay and main action of a soft porn. They play Di’Caprio and Winslet of  Titanic while waiting in the line, Butler and Swank of P.S. I love you if they get seats, and * Emraan and Mallika * of murder if they get the standing space beside the metro gate. That standing space is so hot in demand that often seats are ignored for them, and if it is a group date you will find more than one couple per space. While they are treating their other half as touch pad, the bystanders/sitters have shame in their eyes. Here once again the sincerity of South Indian love respects the views of the world, and don’t let the love be mistaken as lust.

Up here in the NCR most of the affairs don’t end up in marriage, because parents of many don’t agree. Actually a majority can’t gather the courage to let their parents know of their wishes. Ignoring the issue and parting the ways is all they do, but again in most of the cases. Down in south where affairs are rare, the sincerity of south Indian love, provides enough courage to get the parents consent for marriage, and they happily live ever after.

I am not implying that having an affair up here is easy, yet in NCR it is more of a commodity, so use and throw cases are common.

Down their youth love is in scarcity, so finding it is equivalent to finding treasure, and nobody throws treasure, as it is meant to be treasured.

P.S:- Gurpreet you cook good, you are sincere, just find one south Indian girl, because down there it is Engeyum Kadhal.

*….*: I have used Emraan and Mallika because Indians will remain Indians when it comes to Sex.

IT Aunty

By far I the IT guy has been my most viewed blog post, so keeping in mind the relative success of that post, I am penning down my experiences about the great industry once again that has opened the floodgates of employment in the modern times. The only flipsyde is that I have switched the sexes, and changed the relationship status of the protagonist. So here is how a married woman spends her typical workday as employee of an IT company in India.

Note: The office hours are considered as 9 A.M. to 6 P.M. , and supposedly lunching practices can be observed between 12:30 to 2:30 for half an hour.

0800 hrs: The cab driver is honking rapidly, he is waiting for a female employee, who actually told him 15 minutes ago that she would be in the cab with in next five minutes. The driver is twenty minute behind schedule, and today he will definitely be struck in the jam at toll plaza near ambiance mall; but how could she leave before she finds her ID card. Ah she found her ID, but now her hair are slightly disturbed, so the cabby is obliged to linger for five more minutes at least. The engine started and wheels rolled at 0807 hrs; courtesy IT aunty.

0854 hrs:  As anticipated the cab is stuck at Mahipalpur, driver has tuned in to 98.3 Mirchi FM. RJ played Jalebi Bai, and the innocent driver committed the sin of humming one line of song along with the radio. Suddenly he started getting chastised for playing bawdy songs when girls are sitting in the cab. Now the point to note down is, there were three passengers in the cab, two guys who actually were enjoying the song before the rebuttal began and third was the aforementioned woman; where does a girl come from? The so call girl my friends is the IT Aunty in her own dreams.

0917hrs: The cab has arrived in front of the office, while signing off* the driver, she gave him a look of “you will burn in the fires of hell” type. I would like to devote some words on the luggage she happens to carry then. One handbag which is larger than the schoolbag of a 4th grader (I hope you know the size of the mentioned schoolbag, due to the controversies surrounding it), one laptop bag, one handicraft bag which contains a Tupperware™ case, that incidentally happens to contain four small boxes of lunch. The special attraction today is a poly bag which is the home of a coconut oil bottle, as she had shampooed her hair today. So for complete nutrition of her silky locks it is essential to oil them after they dry, after all she is out IT Aunty.

The story of the handicraft bag: Once in a while some NGOs visit our office, with some
handicraft stuff, reportedly made by under privileged children, and essentially overpriced.
The money earned by selling those products in turn is deployed for the well being of poor
children.Over time she and her fraternity had bought so many of the bags, that the NGO has
stopped visiting our office, because the amount of money they earned was so much, that no
child is under privileged in their NGO.

0933hrs: She leaves her seat for washroom, with the handbag and the poly bag. The happenings inside the ladies washroom are censored, as I don’t want to turn into an adult stuff blogger so soon, but my other “Unmarried” female anonymous sources  have told me that she oiled her hair, gave them a new style, and did some other girly stuff. Then she caught hold off another girl who unfortunately was known to her, checked her makeup as a veterinarian checks a sick buffalo, gave some silly tips, and at last decided to take matters in her own hands. At 0951 hrs a girl who resembled the models in Haryanvi song videos was found roaming in the company premises. Do you know who her beautician was? Our IT Aunty.

Between 1000 hrs and 1215 hrs: She argued with somebody for a chair and after switching the chairs realized that the other chair was actually her’s. She opened a biscuit packet dropped half of them while opening, pretended to offer the remaining ones to her colleagues, ended up finishing the whole packet alone, and then fretted over her ever increasing weight. She switched on her laptop, had a vision that she forgot her password, called the system maintenance department, fought with them over the phone for resetting her password ASAP, as she has to do a lot of work. When the password changed she logged in, marked her attendance (most efficient resource when it comes to marking attendance and applying leaves), checked some funny mails, and then broadcasted them thorough out the ODC**. A fresher in that ODC was suggested to work very hard, put his best efforts towards learning new technologies.He obliged by saying thanks, and he got some extra line of codes to do in place of customary your welcome. The persona that made the career changing suggestion is our IT Aunty.

1235hrs: Two humans of female variety are on the front of food cashier queue, and there is an important discussion going on about what to have in lunch. At the back queue size is growing exponentially by the minute. After five minutes the decision is out, they have opted to eat at the other outlet today. O my dear IT Aunty, you are so full of surprises.

1243hrs: She took the food coupon by overpowering and ignoring others who were living in the hope of getting a food coupon by following the principle of queue. She pushed and glared a whole lot of individuals to reach at the top of hierarchy, the food counter. At present she is arguing with one food vendor for extra pickle, and she is advising other one on how to make good grill sandwiches, completely unknown of the fact that the raita (Yogurt dish) from her plate has dripped all over my shirt. At last I also had my share of blessings from IT Aunty.

1315hrs: It is good to have a walk after having food, so she decided to have a stroll. As she does a lot a drudgery on daily basis, and she is not that young (although she has maintained her youth if you ask her), she gets tired she decides to occupy the stairs for a while for having a nice little chit chat with her friends. Meanwhile I am off to my friend’s PG*** to change the shirt, after accepting the apologies of IT Aunty; did I had another choice nien, remember I the IT guy, I never have a choice.

1430hrs: I came back after changing shirts and she is still on the same stair. She rationalized her stand on the raita incident once again, made some remark on my new shirt, and off she goes to her cubicle, to conquer the world. IT Aunty the IT worker.

1630hrs: Now that she has actually managed to work for ~7200000 milliseconds, she has the right to go for evening snacks. So I will spare myself from repeating the words as most probably the history would repeat itself in the cafeteria. IT Aunty is very consistent with her demeanor to quote the least.

1715hrs: She calls the cabby and inquire about the possibilities of leaving early. When she gets a negative reply, she calls the other driver (read husband), to pick her up and drop her home. The hapless fella can’t deny, he will drop her home, and then will come back to his office. Yet he as a faithful servant sorry husband is expected to be home before 9 o’clock and take her out for a dinner, because after having a hard day at work she can’t cook.

Between 1720hrs and the time till driver comes: She will read some feminine stuff on some fashion website, tell her superior if any that she is leaving (yes they don’t ask, the are kind enough to tell). She uses the office phone to make some personal calls in a professional way, and she says goodbye for the day.

When I see her departing, I croon a famous number by La’s

There she goes
There she goes again
Racing through’ my brain
And I just can’t contain
This feelin’ that remains

There she blows
There she blows again
Pulsing through’ my vein

And I just can’t contain
This feelin’ that remains

There she goes, there she goes again.

*It is a procedure of signing a slip at your drop off point, that signifies that driver hasn’t kidnapped you.

**Offshore Development Center, where you can get your work done by paying below minimum wages.

***The literal meaning is Paying Guest, but in Haryana, India the word means the mazes “Jahan Insaan Jata to Apni Marzi Se Hai, Lekin Aata Ya to Makaan Malik ki Marzi Se Hai, Ya Uski Security Amount Jabt Ho Jati Hai.”

Suspense: If any body of you have noticed that she brought her own lunch but yet she bought meals from cafeteria, that is the reason of her ever increasing weight. Finish the lunch, before the lunch is her mantra.