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I had forgotten the joy of travelling in a bus.
I used to detest public transport (past tense) and then I got a chauffeur driven car and now i drive on my own and miss the public busses
For the past one year i have had no opportunity to travel in the pre=”the “>delhi DTC busses, the low-lying ones of course, but yesterday I did! and my god the public has increased there were of course the shoves and pushes and surprisingly more :”excuse me’s”! that was a major surprise …. or maybe it was just me looking very corporate ….
And of course the weather was also helping, it was nice not the usual sweaty Delhi ki garmi… so i didnt mind standing in the bus for a good 20 mins while being thrown left and right depending on the breaks the bus took.
As i stood i noticed two ladies who looked like they would have come from the heartland of India. With their colourful sarees, bangles, bindi and that “I am from rural india and I am very comfortable with my body and I dont care if I have my feet up on the seat … cause really it is not big deal you urban maniacs … cause all you do is slog it out in the office and have no life” …. look and ” I am going to chatter in my heartland language and point fingure at you and smile and snicker while you try to figure out what is so amusing” look
So there I was standing and being snickered at but I didnt mind it in fact i was curious and happy! (?)…
Community travel is interesting … in a car you forget that joy of not knowing what stop we will stop at or the holding on to your dear life while the bus maneuvers at death speed and that crazy ticket guy who will take his own sweet filthy time to punch holes in your ticket while you stand there waiting for your majesty to give you that ticket which took you a good 8 minutes to get after a lot of shoving pushing and elbowing people.
You forget that there are people more similar to you only from different places with different languages …
you forget that yours and the rest of the 58 people in that bus unconsciously trust the driver who is being reckless as hell with your loves
you forget that its okay if someone is snickering at you in an unknown language
and you forget that the bus tickets are still damn cheap! (though that will change soon)
For a while i have been comfortably numb.
Taking in everything that comes my way, with a smile.
I have let the course of my life be directed by the decisions made by others and not get angry not get pissed off if things didn’t go my way and not be disappointed when I didn’t get what i want.
This is the stage when you know that you want more, but you rather not as the fine balance that has been created will break and wont get back to its initial stage.
But does it have to break? to grow? am i hindering it? Should i just let go? Should i just do what i want? or should i just be in the comfortably numb stage as long as i can? should i “break free”? But break free and then what? Do i need another option to let go of this one?
Should i keep concentrating on the things that i feel are important and just move with the flow??
Am I waiting for Divine intervention AGAIN?!
I feel its drink time … and more than one will do.
As the Satyam controversy takes a new turn and the blame game starts. There is a tension in the office air. A silence peppered with the keyboard clicks. The whooshing of coffee machines and the hush talks in the corners.
I feel a bit depressed with my phone ringing off the hook enquiring all is well? And my boss (oh he is so sweet!) rattles away on the phone -
Life must go on … until physically hanged … virtual hanging toh ho gayee hai …
I pop a disprin … mull over the media frenzy … 4th cup of coffee … (i wasn’t this tense at my wedding… i wonder)
I feel small … little … insignificant … a pawn in the bigger scheme of things … a small speck whose destiny has been decided … all that I can do is try to be happier or just throw a bitch fit!
Few office learnings, I value, I treasure and I am starting to follow – 
1. Walk slow and I mean really slooooow, especially when walking towards the office or walking to or from a place for any official work
2. Eat. Relish each bite. Slow eating is a good, healthy exercise.
Please chew your food and take few sips of that cola, spend 30 minutes on a meal and if pepered with a lively discussion stretch it to 60 minutes, especially when in office
3. Do not and I mean it DO Not tell the boss that you need more work. The outcome for this is ALWAYS and I seriously mean it ALWAYS is MORE CRAP WORK!
4. Do not be Happy and Smiling in Office, instead be the sulky, long faced employee. Honestly no one cares and the smiles will just lead to more conversation and more work and more WORK!!!
This gets me to the question – Am I overworked?
5. Quiting is NOT an Option. YOu WILL not quit and dreaming about that beach holiday while sitting under an AC duct (that works on full blast) is just going to lead to more misery
Thats all folks —- More later ……
I will confess beforehand that I haven’t read the book. Though I will buy it today itself and start reading. But the first thing that comes to my mind when I read the excerpts of the book is that it is India Bashing at its best.
What bothers me more than anything is the fact that in all the reviews the “the dark heart” of India aspect has been highlighted.
For years money has been made in art, literature and social work, by selling poor Indians and their hungry kids with their torn clothes, running noses and deprived eyes, running bare-feet on the roads, begging for alms and mercy.
There have been innumerous photographs, paintings that have sold the poverty of India at its best.
And literature pretty much takes the cake, starting with Amartya Sen, Salman Rushdie to name a few noted authors
A particular article in the Telegraph starts of with The White Tiger and then just goes on and on about the details of poverty in India.
Slums and Mumbai have become synonyms. Beggars on the streets of India are a must see for tourists. Hungry-Indian-Kids are words used together more often than not.
I can’t digest this a wee bit, why highlight a certain aspect of a country? And by doing so throw the dignity/ self respect of the people involved (the beggars, slum dwellers) down the drain
Mr. Adiga, to really drill in the poor aspect of India, I refuse to shell out Rs 400 for your book, instead I shall read the pirated version of your book (Rs 100)
Me a party pooper? …
Maybe
Who is Nandu you might ask?
Nandu is a little boy, living on the street and selling flowers bundled up by his mom and sister. His world revolves around his home JorBagh red light…. (is that an address? Red light?) It is his address. His home.
He runs between cars dodging as they zoom by, risking his existence for 5 rupees worth of sale.
You want to know more, he is bare feet 24/7; come the Delhi chilly winter or the scorching Delhi heat. A bare shirt and a torn short is what I have seen him wear over the past 2 years that I have interacted with him.
What is so unique about Nandu? He is like any other boy living of the streets of Delhi, whats so new about that?
Well nothing new actually.
There are numerous people on the streets of Delhi. Eating, drinking, making babies on the street, their lives spent by the street.
The lights turn green, red, yellow; cars zoom, halt, honk; people, dogs walk past and they live and earn their livelihood. They smile at you when you stop and bug you to buy flowers/ book/ newspaper.
YOu glare/ buy/ shoo them off… and life it moves on …
But Nandu I feel is a little wee bit special, One he is adorable! (the picture does not do justice trust me!!)
Two he is always smiling and
Three he is insanely happy with his situation.
All he knows is to sell flowers and he does that with all the zeal that a 6 year old can muster. He is a master at dodging traffic and his tiny feet can bare the chill/ dirt/ heat a Delhi road is capable off.
My salute to little Nandlal. May your grow strong and happy and find a roof that keeps you safe.
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I am getting that feeling, the one that Kareena Kapoor got in Jab We Met ( I feel very filmy right now!) … that feeling that my train is going to leave and if i dont hurry right now, it will be too late.
Unfortunately the feeling that I am getting is an offshoot of the same, just a little more sadder …. mine is - that I have already missed by train and there is no way I can catch it…. no chance …. no Cute/ rich/ humrous/ adorable Sahid Kapoor … to rescue me in his all new Merc …. no no no
Misery Misery Misery
The train has gone and I am left stranded here, freezing under the AC shaft, wiping my running nose … drinking cups tea … shivering like a fool
Oh well… I think the end is near! …
Where is that dazzling smile that I am known for ??
Where is the fun fun!?
Where is the insane crazy abundance??
And where the hell is the wohhoooo yeyyyyyy feeling ???
I dont feel it anymore…
I want my train back. I couldnt have missed it.
Sign. . .
There is something about me that I now know for sure.
A reality that stares at me now, the word is Hypocrite
I am all talk, all high flying mighty talk!
and when it comes to doing, i do no harm. I bend, i am flexible, i adapt.
In my actions, there is none of that I WILL NOT BEND (cause i always do), I will NOT dither from my path (cause i always do) I WILL prevail (i never do)
Sob!
I feel miserable!!
Sob SOb
One the eve of Independence Day of our great country India I was all praise to the development and high growth rate. The way our country has surpassed colonial rule and come up with such vigor and glory is commendable.
14th of August was also the day our offices were shutting at 4:30, our buses were going to leave sharp at 4:30 and ferry us back to the comforts of our home.
Or so I thought.
The clock struck 4:30 and my colleagues and me … marched towards the bus, we unsuspecting souls…. Who knew at that point that the evening was going to go horribly wrong?
Well the bus was late (nothing new!) as whenever it rains in Gurgaon, the traffic goes kaput and water clogs as if we are in some shanty slum rather than the high flying DLF Cyber City area that houses the top of the class MNC’s the world has seen… EnY, WNS, Orange, Ericsson etc .. You name it they are there.
The traffic was crawling at the speed of .005 meters/ 20 minutes. Each car was bumper to bumper and everywhere you looked you could see cars, buses and more cars stuck, ofcourse …not moving.
There was an abundance of rain, flared tempers, honking and distress talks over the mobile phones.
Well we waited first in the pouring rain, huddled under an umbrella, with our shoes soaking in water 4:30 turned to 5. “Oh the bus is going to be here any minute” We searched in the lock jaw traffic, we searched in hope, in the anticipation of a miracle that this traffic is going to get better in a few minutes time.
5:30 Heated exchanges, 6:00 Blame game, 6:30 More rain, 7:00 No bus in sight.
Soaking to the bones, our patience run out, we headed towards the food court our spirits down looking for some relief in tea and bread pakoras.
Surprise surprise we managed to share a laugh or two. It’s a marvel how people connect in difficult situations. 7:40 is when we sat in the bus. The traffic crawled till Moti Bagh, 9:30 is when I reached India Gate and then home.
A total of 5 hours washed in the rains.
On the eve of 15th of August 2008, I made a few friends and marveled at my patience and ofcourse learnt a lesson – When it rains, it pours and when it pours don’t you dare come to Gurgaon.
Yes I feel it every Tuesday/ Wednesday. Its a feeling I believe that a lot of working professionals feel. I will like to term it as the Mid Week Crisis.
The mid week Crisis is a feeling of doom, a feeling of not living your life to the fullest, a feeling that says - work is not all important; Oh My GOd what are you doing with your life?! Why are you not travelling? What arent you involved in more activities?
What about some value add to your personal life?? Take a break/ go for a trek/ be more proactive. Explore… etc etc
When you do get hit by this crisis, you call people and you want to find out what are they upto. You want to know if you can join in their activity. You are an eager beaver to connect. You sign into your Facebook account and drop in “Hi” to long forgottn friends and you shamelessly look in their albums.
The day it hits is Wednesday. It is also the day I get most of the calls from my friends … saying – “Lets do something na…” ”We need to!! Life will pass us by…” This is the day most of the plans get made.
The crisis really gets bad when no one calls… when there are no plans… when all you can do is ponder and ponder about how ur life is going to be spent sitting on the 8th Floor of a building that is hell bent on freezing you to death with their AC on full blast and endlessly typing away at your computer and smiling politely to people and and gulping insane amount of coffee down your throat and analysing numbers and coming up with reports that people will read for half a minute and then use to scribble their To Do List for the Weekend and and and ……
The crisis has hit, time to log on to Facebook and pretend – I am living THE life!
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