Blank and the Castle

 Blank..  

Karthi used to say to me, “Blank da.”, whenever I ask him, “What are you thinking now?”. That comes with a price tag, sometimes stuck permanently on your face. So, when I saw him with the symbol of Christ on his forehead, it dawned on me in a few milliseconds on what could have happened. 

“So, what was it this time, when the blankness engulfed you?” He opened his mouth to say something and yawned instead. I began to reciprocate as he was stopping. He said, “Didn’t quite catch my eye, but does it matter?” and started walking away. 

I wanted to tease him about it and started to laugh out loudly behind him…. Then, it engulfed me. Everything around me screeched to a halt and the time started to move slowly. I felt as if I was watching the ground from an airplane several thousand feet up. A frozen vision of a spinning top just when it was about to fall down, did come to my mind. 

            When I was eleven, we got our own place with a backyard. The first spring, I started following my Grandmother around in burying up plant seeds, offering to dig the holes. She had this belief that if kids plant the seeds, they will definitely sprout. It was Mango first, then Bitter and Bottle gourds and then Beans and my favourite sweet tamarind. It was always planted in the evening. Every following morning, for the next few days, I would run to the backyard to see the first signs of the sprouted plant over the surface. I always wanted to witness it pushing through the covered up and moist soil and show its tiny green bits. I was never lucky, but would still love to try my luck again.

            Slow moving time or slow the moving time? You might get hit by a bolt of eyelids, a flying saucepan or you may crash against the wall. But, when you are hit by the blank, you can move time faster – you could. Imagine being able to write with your left hand, the very next minute. No, it is about building your sand castle again the very next moment. Only that, this time, it would know to jump when the waves came.

Rain

People crammed against me from all sides making me feel the discomfort yet again, the shelter was not big enough to protect that many. Loosened the tie as I moved to the edge of it, and let out a gasp of breath. Then the smell hit my nose, the smell of the soil as it is called, when it rains. It had taken so long for me to realize it, particularly after running straight to the bus-stop shelter once the first few drops fell on me. The rain does not seem to be relenting and it was an unwanted guest.
The flower-woman was under a makeshift shelter – a big plastic cover for the top-half of her body – and another one for her flowers. She did not mind the rain that much. People were still trying to squeeze underneath the shelter. Some cursed the water stagnating in front of the bus stop.
Every now and then, when a bus came, the smart people who had come prepared with umbrellas, tried to use them just to cover the short distance to the bus. A passing auto would move at a snail’s pace when it crossed us, hoping to make a killing as it was getting dark faster than the manoeuvres that had made them famous. They need not require much persuading though, for it was one hell of a shower.
A wise- head near by complained to his friend, “Why should it rain here, causing all sorts of problems?. Why can’t there be rain where it is needed the most?”. His friend just nodded. Next to me, a very protective Mom chided her son. “Don’t you ever listen to me? You’ll get cold, fever and all sorts of infections. You’ll miss your school tomorrow. It’s already getting late for your tuition.”
The brave ones waded through knee high water, which was now semi-black with the drainage overflowing. Some showed their acrobatic skills as they precariously tried to walk on the footpath, trying as much as possible to avoid the drainage. They had a hard time though with all the shops having some sort of encroachment left.
Wait a minute, look at this boy. He has a slipper in each palm of his, bare-foot, plastic sheet to cover both his head and his mighty school bag. Just about enough. He looked up at the sky to feel the rain drops on his face. The Mom nearby was cursing this boy’s parents openly.
As I continued to look at him, I felt a pleasant feeling flooding through me slowly. The bloody neurons had taken a life-time to bring back those thoughts. I guess they were digging deep all this time to come up with this tiny bit of information. As their network became stronger and stronger, a thought occurred in my mind. “I love Rain or rather I used to love rain”.
My smile was getting wider and wider. I decided to bring back the old times. I took a step out and as I was about to make my second, my mobile howled.
“My great makers didn’t make me to be let by an idiot like you to die in the rain. “ I considered it for a moment. “Yes. You didn’t come for free, but for 13k”.
My Red Tape shoe squealed next. Confused, I stepped back. I had real second thoughts on stepping back and decided to take control.
Took a few deep breaths, feeling assured, I stepped out and yelled “Auto”.

Foresight

What it will be like if you know the reply that the girl you are goin to propose is to give you? What it will be like if you get the idea that you are not gonna to get the pay rise or the promotion that you were desperate for? You are goin tripps on a saturday night and the odds are high to be caught by a sleepy policeman? If you are watching the last over of a nail-biting cricket match and yet know the result?
Life'll be pretty boring. huh

I was running hard to keep pace with him in the humid afternoon of that city. I had already kept him waiting for quite some time as is the case always.
I'd have left him behind had it been one of those days when I'd have given most of the guys my age a run for their money. It was not to be as I jogged behind him burning as much calories as I could.

Finally when we reached the entrance, I found that the counter was in the 2nd floor. Cursing my fate, we took the stairs and I thrust a 100 note into the gap that was available, gasped for breath and said, "rendu ticket chetta".

We were just in time as we took our seats and the credits had just started rolling. It was a Tamil thriller and I hoped it would make me feel better for the bad afternoon.
He was still upset with me for being late and getting ourselves soaked by running in the hot sun and was muttering and complaining that the AC was not on and there were no fans nearby either.
At that moment I'd have given anything to keep him shut and mulled for possibilities.
May be I'd punch him square in the jaw, or take away his glasses. Or just get up and sit some where else.
His complaining stopped only after the heroine came on screen, so were my thoughts.
After few minutes though, he was at it again, blaming the slow & meandering screenplay, poor editing and dubbing and so and so.
Watching a whole lot of Iranian, Korean and French movies recently have set his expectations high. Finally, he wanted some air and moved to a seat that was directly below the fan. I was really grateful for him to have done that.
I rushed to the toilet so as to avoid his commentaries during the interval, but was forced to sit beside him when it resumed.
I found that the songs were not hummable nor was the comedy rib-tickling - rather pathetic. But I hung on bravely. His mutterings stopped completely as climax neared. I thought if I should check his pulse to make sure he was not dead, because he was silent for such a long time.
Finally, the twist element in the movie made it worthwhile to sit through the torture, he said.
He was clearly impressed in the end that he ever kindly asked for my opinion.

I had a fanatic as my friend who makes it a point to watch all the movies that reach the theatres, no matter how good they are, within the first few days. He had this honour of letting me know about this twist in the movie in the morning. So, I was infact trying my best not to tell the perennial in-your-face guy about it.
I did tell him in the end though.
I've been made to look like a fool quite a few times before. I knew that Bruce Willis was a ghost even before he appeared in a scene in sixth sense and knew the inspiring ending of Shawshank Redemption before-hand.
Now the only thing I want to avoid is, to know the day when I'm going to die.

An old mike and the chinese man

Late last night, after the successful removal of the demons from my PC, I was relieved that I could install a software at last.
I gave my attention to a chat program and there sat my bloody old roommate pinging me. He was enjoying a day off in that unbearably cold european city of his.
We haven't spoken in a while and I wasn't feeling that sleepy either.
I tried putting on my headphone - the one that was given its due last, when I had just started earning a few bucks.
I don't know if it held a grudge against me, for the left ear didn't work. I guess the wires were taking it easy. So I was happy that I wasn't half deaf.
I thought my friend was having a hard time finding any one to talk at his place as he went on and on even after I said "Hi da hw u doin".
For an instant I thought that he had gone mad. But it was actually my mike that went dumb.
Sulking, I wanted to disconnect the call. But this guy was keen to talk and I was quite in the mood to let some music hit my ears and so went about my improving my typing skills.

After a few minutes I felt a bit odd. I was typing and typing and he didn't mind to type even a single word.
I felt as if I was trying to woo a girl in a busy chat room, who wasn't paying me any attention. May be my friend was talking to a wall.
But it was fun though to communicate with someone in a different way to what he was trying.
I remember having an experience like this before. There was this sleepy little, no mighty busy airport and I was waiting there for my flight which was due in a quarter of a day.

Left with no earphone or a book, I spent some time looking at girls who were passing by. But soon I got bored (did I ?) and looked around to find someone to catch up on some talk.

There was this Chinese man sitting next to me who was into a yawn as I looked and he smiled at me after he finished his yawn.
I said '"Hello". He just smiled again.
"Is your flight in the morning as well?", I asked.
He just blinked and it took me a while to realise that we both did not have a common language to chat.
He fiddled with the zipper of his bag for some time, put his entire head in the bag, rummaged for some time and finally lifted his head out with a satisfactory grin on his face.
He had something that looked like a calculator which was my saviour many a time during the engineering days.
Before I could think any more, he opened it and I found that it was indeed a digital diary with a miniature qwerty keyboard. He pressed some keys and the screen displayed some dancing characters which were chinese as I deduced and found that the keypad was in fact dual with both chineses and english.
Then he pressed another key and the chinese characters disappeared and recognisable characters appeared as "Hello".
My brain was bit slow, so it was a while before I could realise that it was infact a transliterator. I don't bother to check if such a term exists. May be, may be not.
I typed in English and showed all my teeth when they appeared in chinese. Wang Ling and me continued this for quite some time before he got up, shook my hands and left.
I was left wondering who and what I'd be facing next.

Reminiscing Margazhi

The tamil month of Margazhi made me go full circle to about 15 years back.
My Mom is extremely pious and has been a regular to temples in the mornings during this month. She's been doing this for as long as I can remember. Somehow I picked up her habit and started to go along with her. I kinda liked the early morning air and it was usually a herculean task on her part to get me out of my early morning dreams by 4.30.
During the quarter hour long journey to the first of the temples I'd be half sleeping as I walk.
It is always very cold during that time of the year at my town. But the moment you enter the temple you'll feel the tranquility that is quite unmatched unless there are not religious songs playing in the speakers.
I did not notice then that I was the only 10 year old hanging around. The second temple that we usually go is bit bigger than the others and is much quieter. This was my routine for a few years during these months until I finally gave in to the sleep gods as I grew up.
I did not go another temple until about 5 years back when I had go along with a good friend of mine to the Thirupathi temple.
The chap had been having tough times in his view, as he had flunked a couple of papers in the last semester. I did not think it was that bad since I had a couple of other friends who were cooling their heels over fifteen.
But he had promised to donate his hair just in case the lord stepped in and was elated when he cleared them all next time around. So, we went to this famous temple and if I had any thought of tranquility after all those years, it all got evapourated in that human mass and all that pushing and prodding.
Not to make my day any better, I ended up donating my hair, even if it was not much, just to give company to my dear buddy.
That brought an almighty end to my future visits for quite some time.
Sunrises have been elusive to me for years if not months and can only reminisce of the good old days.

New year and resolutions

Oh its the beginning of a new year. I heard the yells of few guys who've been trying to enjoy themselves, shouting as much as possible high in adrenaline - ofcourse.
Lucky that I was able to reach few of my friends who were in high spirits and very positive about the new year.
Some one asked me that boring question, "What is your new year resolution?". I thought, "Do you have a new year resolution?" would have been better.
I've been looking for a boring reply for it for ages and atlast found one fitting enough - "Well, each day is special and if you want a resolution you can take one on any day of the year".
Well that is a stupid yet common question to be asked on a New year's day. Most people like me haven't yet learned to continue the conversation in the same vein after the wishes, so are forced to ask that question.. I don't know how many people actually have a resolution each year let alone follow it through the year.
Hmm... I don't have one this year and hope I'll have something else to ask people after dawn.

a cold london night and a bruised ego

"Dei, can we go to the movie Yaaradi Nee Mohini?", I yelled at my room mates.....

It was already 5.30 on a saturday evening, so the only chance was to try the 9.45 show, and I was quite determined to go for the second show, which I usually do in India....

But my friends were worried if we could catch the last bus... but there is TFL.GOV.UK - the site for everything regarding transport in london.

Found that the last bus is at 12.30 and convinced them for the movie.I picked up my bicycle, took the hand pump and brought it to a condition that could withstand my ever increasing weight..

No - I was not planning to go to the theatre in my bicycle, I just wanted to go for a small ride...

I had planned to park it at my cousin's place, get his bus card and join my friends in the bus stop near East Ham station.

But that idiot had other ideas - did not attend my phone calls, and did not even respond to me pressing the calling bell.

I said to myself that may be he was not there. I had forgotten to wear gloves and it was a very cold night.. and it was already 9.00. My friends had started and it would take some 20 mts to go to the Ilford cineworld complex. A familiar thought struck me - why not try the bicycle all the way to the theatre...

Mind you - mine was a £325 bike (cycle) and parking it outside is considered unsafe...


Going back to my place, parking it, walking back to the bus stand and trying to catch the bus would be tough - since there is only a single route towards the theatre - the one by bus no. 147...


Called up my friends to let me know when they cross me, so that I could follow the bus to the theatre - I did not know the route to the theatre..

So there I was, waiting near the bus stop, without a pair of gloves - it was 5 degrees...

Cursing myself for not getting the gloves, I started after the bus.

But it seemed to be a blunder with every passing minute or rather second. It was bloody freezing and I had to try some old tricks with the handle bar. Tried riding with one hand, and the other inside my jacket pocket.

It was one hell of a ride and had to take turns with my hands. The slowly moving bus in the traffic didn't help either.
"appadi" - I exclaimed when I was in sight of the theatre complex. There was yet another problem - parking my bike.

Having one last look at my dear bike, I parked it outside a library near the complex. I was banking on my £50 locks to do the job for me. Had really a tough time chaining it, with both hands in nerve chilling pain.

Friends took a dig at me for taking the bike rather than the bus.... Thankfully after the movie - at 12.20, was happy to find my bike in its original place and thanked the crooks of my ill-famous area for working elsewhere that night......

I got the keys since I could reach home quicker than the guys....

Put on my helmet for which I had lot of like, turned on the front and rear headlights and was soon on my way.

I took a U at chapel street, moved quickly underneath the bridge of the A-road and within seconds was in Romford road.

Taking the 1st left turn and after a few rights and lefts was in little Ilford lane. Pushed harder to make my body get the warmth to manage the cold weather. Soon entered Church road, where the famous Murugan Temple of London is located.
With swift pedalling, reached the end of that road to reach Rosebury avenue. another 10 minute ride would take me to the warmth of my home , I thought.
Suddenly, some one appeared on my way when I took the right onto Rosebury Avenue. Another two appeared behind me, holding my bike.

The guy in front held the handle-bar and motioned me to get down. I stooped a bit, but did not get down.

The guys who had stopped me were teenagers, yet to earn the right to drive a car. One of them from behind, grasped my shoulder and made me to get down.

Unhurried, they asked for my Wallet, mobile and my jacket. An unknown feeling engulfed my stomach, and I thought may be I should have gone for some action flick.

But outnumbered, and wary of stories in local papers about knife-wielding teenaged guys, I silently killed any little thought of fighting back.

Took my wallet out - It did not contain too much money though. Had one last look at my Sony W810i, hardearned and bought in India, and all those mobile numbers...

I kept my jacket though - me being submisssive let them keep it with me in that cold weather.

One of them checked with me where I lived, and asked me to keep walking in that direction.
They quickly disappeared in the opposite way and there I was - out in the cold..

Slowly, I started walking towards Wakefield street with my hands in the jacket pocket and with a bruised ego.