Dingbat Bravado

As I do with most hypothetical questions, I've often speculated wildly about what I would do if I was ever put in a life-or-death situation. On the train, I was forced to find out. Surprising even myself, I didn't crumble. In fact, it seems that I'm capable of being completely sangfroid and that I have the presence of mind -- the kind I didn't even know I had -- to think up a P.O.A and execute it to successfully enough to extract myself from a sordid mess. 

But I did! 

And then, after it was all over, I cried. Uncontrollably. Like something really terrible did happen. And then, I escalated the patheticness to a whole new level. I called Blue Shirt and cried some more. I don't even know why I called him. I was horrible. I sobbed and sniffed and snivelled.  I don't think I cried like that even when Goofy died.  It's a natural reaction, everyone tells me. Sheesh! Still, am I a sissy or what?  Meh. But the important thing is that all is well that end's well, n'est ce pas?

Aside: (to a girl) Never call a guy when you want comfort. He will try to "help" by either offering you advice (which is really, the most obvious things you can do in the said situation...like you're incapable of already having thought of it yourself) or try to diffuse the situation by coming onto you, both of which are things you do NOT need at the moment. Call your best friend instead. If you can't get through, try again. And again. At the least, she will say the right things and let you cry in peace, which is all you really wanted anyway. 

Okay, I'm just being extremely mean and ungrateful here. Grouses aside, I would have completely lost it if it hadn't been for the calm reassuring voice of reason that Blue Shirt was. He always makes me feel silly and overtly sentimental every time I say anything remotely personal. It usually riles me enough to forget my misery and clam up. This time too it worked like a charm. The waterworks stopped instantly.  So quite some credit to him, I think.  

I know, I know. It sounds much too much like one of our chronicles, but rest assured it's not. As cited on the list, I'm way past that port.  


So, am I ever going to cut the crap and get to the point, explain what the life-or-death was. Trust me, I'm trying. Every time I start, I find myself unwilling to continue. It's been three days since it happened. I still can't sleep. I have nightmares when I try to. So, I walk around making light of it, acting like I'm fine, that nothing's amiss. Because ultimately nothing did happen, right? Right. 

However, now, another hypothetical question -- What if it had?

Au revoir, Pondichéry

A quaint little café overlooking the sapphire-blue beach; soaking-in the sun, sipping lemonade, the Smiths in the background and snatches of conversation. 


Walks along cobbled streets, shopping for summer dresses,  aahaing a cafe here, ooohing a cottage there, a litter of labs totter down the side-walk, as a horse-driven carriage leaves us behind. 


A new morning, beginning with breakfast, sunlight streaming through the windows; smells of freshly roasted coffee beans and newly baked bread; and women in chic white, vermilion on their foreheads, snippets of french, talk of the auro and the ashram. 


At dusk, walking by the shore, watching the sun set into the water, smooth stone against  skin, wind in hair, salt on lips; carefully concealed memories surface and, threaten to choke. A masquerade parade passes by, throws across a safety, a new mask. 


Leaning on his shoulder, drifting in and out of sleep; dreams come. Too soon, a gentle shake, a reminder, return to reality.   


Time to get off the bus, it seems.  

MI 06

From the time I have come back home, I have been thinking of ways to write about Moodi and Mumbai. Everything about it is a weird paradox. We did a lot and we did nothing. We wanted to come home but we didn't want to leave. I'm happy here yet I wanna be there. There's so much to tell and I don't know where to start. So, I decided to limit to a list of 5 things that made the trip worth it.

So here are the highlights...

1. The IIT B Campus : The first two days I hated it. It had the feeling of being left out in a desert. Everything looked hopelessly the same and at any point of time you were always nowhere. But gradually, as we started to sketch a mind map with a constant, it started to grow on us. The 600 acres of land, lake and hill started to feel like a maze, just waiting to be entered and explored.

2. The Nites : I can safely say that the nights I spent in Powai - in and around IIT B are some of the best in my life. The concert featuring Sitar funk has to be the most amazing fusion music I have ever seen in my lifetime, one I'm sure I'll not forget in a hurry. And, If Kailash Kher's gig didn't render me to Kailasa, Naresh Kamat (the base Guitarist) sure did. If it wasn't Pronites we were at, then it was taking midnight strolls on the roads of the campus. I'd be willing to bet that those were the witness or even the source for every brainwave that an IITian has ever had.

3. Hiranandani : A stone throw away from the campus, this place is the ultimate hangout for the 'junta' of IIT outside of campus. There's nothing you can't get in there. But food is what steals the thunder from everything else. It houses some of the yummiest food stalls and cafes in all of Mumbai. We went there whenever we wanted a proper meal or a safe haven to retreat to. Pani puri in cafe galleria, candle-light booze in aura's, dabeli in one tiny stall, hundi in Shaolin, ice gola's in chill out and rich chocolat mousse in balloons & ribbons are things that I'll always remember this place by.

4. Mumbaiya nagari: Being a bloody cynic (personally I prefer critic) by nature, I don't take to new cities very fast. For example : I hated Bangalore on sight. It took me about 4 trips to get over it. But, all it took was a drive around Mumbai to furnish my feelings; I was going to like it - a lot. Everything about the city was king size. Its architecture splendid. The blend of the high rise horizons coupled with buildings of British confluence is just beautiful to watch. Enter the night lights and it takes on another entity. It's sure a city that never sleeps. Being a hardcore Hyderabadi, I'd never accustom to the speed of Mumbai and would never even want to, but if for a brief respite, I'd probably chose Mumbai.

5. The 'Junta': Big blue oafs, manas, spineless jellyfish, ogres, five o clock, lick ass lovers, 64 Ferguson cockroaches, mutter to myself boy, junta party, cute bastard, roshesh sarabhai, whisper boy... These are just some of the characters I wouldn't missed meeting for the whole world. Directly or indirectly, they provided us with non-stop entertainment throughout our stay in Mumbai. There are a lot of other characters, orgies, co-ords, CG s and most importantly, the ordinary junta ie. the sundry IITians who have made my trip definitely worth it.

I could go on and on about the innumerable little things that made my day like tamtams, panthers... hostels... sambar... wada pav... jalfrieze...parikrama... so on and so forth but it would still be a lost cause, for the list is simply inexhaustible.

Overtime, Moodi and Mumbai might not mean anything to me but one thing I know will eternally remain the same... It'll always bring a smile to my face or as psycho puts it - a twinkle in my eyes.