I knew I was dead.
Why? I remember pushing in more vodka shots than I could handle and abusing my boss so much that kids and conservative women would commit suicide without a second thought after hearing it; I remember I accosted a random public transport bus; I remember politely asking the driver to get the fuck outta the driver’s seat, and when he didn’t oblige I remember pummeling his head with my ancient Nokia 3100 (People always used to call it sengal, so I thought I would use it likewise), throwing him out and then with an air of Aurangzeb ousting Shahjahan and taking the throne, I ascended the throne of the bus and started driving it in a haphazard manner. It’s not every day that you get to beat up bus drivers and drive buses. And of course, it’s not every day that you die.
That railway crossing I stopped the bus on? Well, let’s just say some stuff on that bus and on that train won’t be the same any longer.
Through the hazy mist, in the bleary distance I observed a cloaked and mysterious figure approaching me. As he came closer, I realized that he was too handsome to be real. His features were carved out so perfectly that he put the statue of David and Michelangelo to shame ten times over. He came over with an air of absolute nonchalance, like he didn’t have a care in the world. Oh wait, I should bite my tongue. I don’t think I’m in the world anymore. He spoke like he was so bored of everything, especially me
.
His tone patronized every cell in my body.
“Ah, welcome, software engineer (SE) number 85,236,574,911,235,841.”
“What?”
“Oh, you’re dead and you’re at the gates of hell.”
“Hell?! What the… HELL?!”
“Yes, now that curse shall acquire more meaning.”
“You gotta be kidding me man. Jesus Christ!”
“Ah, ah, ah. That kind of cursing is not allowed in hell, Mr. SE.”
“Come on! Why am I in hell? I’ve never used f*** and Jesus Christ in the same
sentence, I’ve never …”
“Save your breath while I list out the reasons why you’re here.”
This was absolutely crazy! Why the hell was I in hell?
“For starters, you just parked a bus on the railway tracks. There were 12 people on the bus that couldn’t make it out of there when the train rammed the bus, and the train which came in? The driver and 6 people died on that. You are responsible for the deaths of 18 people. Include yourself. 19 people. That’s worse than most serial killers.”
“But I didn’t do it intentionally! I was just a guy who got pissed with his software job and wanted some fun!”
He shrugged and lit a cigarette with the same nonchalance he had exhibited before. He spoke again.
“Well, as the ruler of this realm, I have nothing to say. I do not sympathize or empathize with you.”
“You are the ruler... You are the devil?!”
“Some call me that, yes.”
“What the… The devil smokes?”
“Why not? And no lung cancer or any other monstrosities associated with it.”
“So how does hell work?”
“Simple. A guy called Coelho said the universe conspires to give you what you want if you really want it. Here it happens in reverse. If you want something really badly, hell makes sure you don’t get it.”
“Err.. I guess that’s how life works for everyone in a non Paulo Coelho world.”
“Whatever. Who cares? So, you’re a software engineer huh. Allow me to outline your duties.”
“Duties?! Nooooooo. Don’t tell me. Please, please, I give you full permission to do anything heinous. Eye gouging, limb pulling, merciless beating with spiked whips.. Anything but please don’t make me do coding again!”
“That’s how hell works. And I take immense satisfaction in informing you that you can do absolutely nothing about it. Hahahahahahaha.”
Well, I had seen and heard thalaivar’s evil laugh in Endhiran (Thankfully I saw that movie before I departed from Earth) and let me tell you. Compound the effect of that laugh a few million, no, a few billion times and even then it won’t even come close to the devil’s laugh. The devil’s laughter made my eyes pop out and reach my tummy, where my stomach was churning at close to ultrasonic frequency.
Wait. Did I even have internal organs anymore?
(To be continued … )
Monday, October 11, 2010
Saturday, October 02, 2010
My Deep Rooted Love - Namma Madras!
Wrote this article in response to this, but don't think I stand a chance to come anywhere close to Vir Sanghvi. Anyhow.. Just to vent my feelings for my passionate lover Madras I penned this one. Feel free to add more :)
The beach breeze caressed my face and automatically pulled at the corners of my mouth, thereby bringing a smile to my lips. The seemingly endless sand with all the sea shells strewn around, fascinating kids to dig for them and exhibit them as the most precious treasure in the world; the sukku coffee vendors loitering around, convincing uninterested people to buy their stuff; sundal vendors who invariably irk couples sitting comfortably in the sunset trying to get intimate; (naan mahan alla springs to my mind) Sparks fly from the coal powered, hand operated corn machines – our very own similar invention to the barbecue J This particular corn, flavored with lemon, salt, and chili powder is absolutely scrumptious and lip smacking.
The sky is painted in rich colors which only nature can synthesize. As we draw back slowly from the too-beautiful-for-words beach, we now zoom in to the streets of Mylapore –
Genial mamas and mamis go walking in the park with their sports shoes and piping hot gossip about the latest girl to get engaged to a maaplai from the US. Luz corner is buzzing with activity with the trademark street shop owners sincerely calling pedestrians to indulge in their wares. Luz corner is a shopper’s paradise for all classes of people – you get everything from your dependable yet cheap local platform chappals to an overpriced pair of Reebok shoes. (This is also the case with the city’s shopping hub T-Nagar – there is absolutely NOTHING which you cannot find there! The insanely economical Bhagya’s hotel which has been serving it’s standard naan and paneer butter masala – wow, it’s a treat for everyone whose wallet doesn’t want to become lighter!)
School kids walk back from school; joy in their hearts, free of worries. They stop at Iyengar bakery to munch on a rather delicious cream bun, or a puff and a badam milk. The Mylapore tank is teeming with fat fish which are being overfed by enthusiastic people who purchase pori for the fish and keep feeding them; And OH, what do we see here ?
Our ultra traditional Tamil Brahmin mami with her madisar saree, personifying traditional culture and values, talking in her adorable Brahmin dialect; (Which is often the cause for poking fun) and early in the morning, the smell of fresh filter coffee wafts from the traditional Mylapore home, invading your nostrils and thereby triggering something in your head; and of course, not to forget the grandiose festival of aruvathi moovar, where the 63 nayanars grace the streets with their presence. The scale on which this festival transcends all barriers – the crowd is infinite and there is a rather famous saying that if you want to lose your child, just go to aruvathi moovar. The shops on the platform start about 3 kilometers from Mylapore and you get literally everything – delectable chips, freshly fried on your request, assorted sweets in huge glass bottles which you can keep staring at and salivating; innumerable number of fancy toys for the kids; basically it is just a totally festive atmosphere, where the 63 idols are paraded around the Mylapore tank – the four roads enclosing the tank are the busiest at this time of the year, and the street shops in Luz are in a deep bonanza state.
Chennai MRTS is something which is an astounding system, which can take you around half the city! That familiar sound of the train wheels on the tracks and on the gravel. That sound of screeching brakes. That horn from the train just before it starts.. And the joy you get out of sticking you head out from the open entries/exits! That wind in your hair, trees and houses rapidly rushing past; the landscape changing from a crowded city to a lighthouse, towering over everything and casting it’s luminescence over all; And of course, the familiar cry of “suda suda onion samossaayyy! Sooda irundha kaasu saar!” (piping hot onion samosas, I will take money only if they are hot!)
You get down at central station to the buzzing activity, hustling and bustling passengers running to stalls to find their journey’s companions at Higginbothams book stall; you get an unmistakable whiff of fish, the porters in red all set to take your luggage and rob you blind ;-) and you know you are home. The hoarding ‘Chennai Central’ along with the iconic clock tower reminds one of the rich and sophisticated past of Madras.
In the heart of the city, right in the midst of a concrete jungle where horns are blaring, lights are glowing and the air itself is busy, you find solace in the natural jungles of IIT and Anna University. Where else would you find a national park dedicated to the diverse life forms in the middle of a city? We have it. If you want to escape from the hustle bustle of the city, just slip in to Anna University or IIT and amidst the trees and the silence on nature you shall find solace.
If you’re really in the mood to whistle, go ahead! Madras offers you so much scope for whistling, cat calling, screaming, and what not – Just go for the electrifying matches at Chennai Chidambaram stadium and you’ll know. Every match played there warrants appreciation from the crowd, who support their team ferociously, but don’t think twice about showing their appreciation to the opposing team either- the crowd which gave Pakistan a standing ovation!
Just go for any movie starring Rajni and you will beyond doubt and acknowledge, yes! Chennai people can make noise. Each step which Rajni takes is greeted by whistles, cheers and general admiration. Each six which Dhoni hits out of the park is welcomed by Sivamani’s foot tapping beats and the calls of the public. Why do you think CSK is such a successful team? The fans go crazy! Dhoni himself goes crazy, telling us to put whistle for CSK :)
Having said so much - Beach football. Tennis ball cricket. Footbard travel. The Rs. 3 juice shops and the 6 rupees paneer sodas. From the poshness of Boat club road to the local-ness of Nandanam housing board. From the mega ad hoardings at T-Nagar to the huge painted ads on crumbling tenements beside Kotturpuram bridge. From the clean and clear Mylapore tank to the stinky yet surprisingly feel good cooum river. From the overcrowded and over squeezed T-Nagar to the emptiness and grandeur of Guindy National Park…
Each and every building, object or environment is bound together with the oneness of the city’s humanity and humility. Every crumbling wall, every drop of water from the corporation tap, every molecule of everything that ever exists is wound together inevitably and cohesively with the indomitable spirit of Madras… Madras, namma Madras!
The beach breeze caressed my face and automatically pulled at the corners of my mouth, thereby bringing a smile to my lips. The seemingly endless sand with all the sea shells strewn around, fascinating kids to dig for them and exhibit them as the most precious treasure in the world; the sukku coffee vendors loitering around, convincing uninterested people to buy their stuff; sundal vendors who invariably irk couples sitting comfortably in the sunset trying to get intimate; (naan mahan alla springs to my mind) Sparks fly from the coal powered, hand operated corn machines – our very own similar invention to the barbecue J This particular corn, flavored with lemon, salt, and chili powder is absolutely scrumptious and lip smacking.
The sky is painted in rich colors which only nature can synthesize. As we draw back slowly from the too-beautiful-for-words beach, we now zoom in to the streets of Mylapore –
Genial mamas and mamis go walking in the park with their sports shoes and piping hot gossip about the latest girl to get engaged to a maaplai from the US. Luz corner is buzzing with activity with the trademark street shop owners sincerely calling pedestrians to indulge in their wares. Luz corner is a shopper’s paradise for all classes of people – you get everything from your dependable yet cheap local platform chappals to an overpriced pair of Reebok shoes. (This is also the case with the city’s shopping hub T-Nagar – there is absolutely NOTHING which you cannot find there! The insanely economical Bhagya’s hotel which has been serving it’s standard naan and paneer butter masala – wow, it’s a treat for everyone whose wallet doesn’t want to become lighter!)
School kids walk back from school; joy in their hearts, free of worries. They stop at Iyengar bakery to munch on a rather delicious cream bun, or a puff and a badam milk. The Mylapore tank is teeming with fat fish which are being overfed by enthusiastic people who purchase pori for the fish and keep feeding them; And OH, what do we see here ?
Our ultra traditional Tamil Brahmin mami with her madisar saree, personifying traditional culture and values, talking in her adorable Brahmin dialect; (Which is often the cause for poking fun) and early in the morning, the smell of fresh filter coffee wafts from the traditional Mylapore home, invading your nostrils and thereby triggering something in your head; and of course, not to forget the grandiose festival of aruvathi moovar, where the 63 nayanars grace the streets with their presence. The scale on which this festival transcends all barriers – the crowd is infinite and there is a rather famous saying that if you want to lose your child, just go to aruvathi moovar. The shops on the platform start about 3 kilometers from Mylapore and you get literally everything – delectable chips, freshly fried on your request, assorted sweets in huge glass bottles which you can keep staring at and salivating; innumerable number of fancy toys for the kids; basically it is just a totally festive atmosphere, where the 63 idols are paraded around the Mylapore tank – the four roads enclosing the tank are the busiest at this time of the year, and the street shops in Luz are in a deep bonanza state.
Chennai MRTS is something which is an astounding system, which can take you around half the city! That familiar sound of the train wheels on the tracks and on the gravel. That sound of screeching brakes. That horn from the train just before it starts.. And the joy you get out of sticking you head out from the open entries/exits! That wind in your hair, trees and houses rapidly rushing past; the landscape changing from a crowded city to a lighthouse, towering over everything and casting it’s luminescence over all; And of course, the familiar cry of “suda suda onion samossaayyy! Sooda irundha kaasu saar!” (piping hot onion samosas, I will take money only if they are hot!)
You get down at central station to the buzzing activity, hustling and bustling passengers running to stalls to find their journey’s companions at Higginbothams book stall; you get an unmistakable whiff of fish, the porters in red all set to take your luggage and rob you blind ;-) and you know you are home. The hoarding ‘Chennai Central’ along with the iconic clock tower reminds one of the rich and sophisticated past of Madras.
In the heart of the city, right in the midst of a concrete jungle where horns are blaring, lights are glowing and the air itself is busy, you find solace in the natural jungles of IIT and Anna University. Where else would you find a national park dedicated to the diverse life forms in the middle of a city? We have it. If you want to escape from the hustle bustle of the city, just slip in to Anna University or IIT and amidst the trees and the silence on nature you shall find solace.
If you’re really in the mood to whistle, go ahead! Madras offers you so much scope for whistling, cat calling, screaming, and what not – Just go for the electrifying matches at Chennai Chidambaram stadium and you’ll know. Every match played there warrants appreciation from the crowd, who support their team ferociously, but don’t think twice about showing their appreciation to the opposing team either- the crowd which gave Pakistan a standing ovation!
Just go for any movie starring Rajni and you will beyond doubt and acknowledge, yes! Chennai people can make noise. Each step which Rajni takes is greeted by whistles, cheers and general admiration. Each six which Dhoni hits out of the park is welcomed by Sivamani’s foot tapping beats and the calls of the public. Why do you think CSK is such a successful team? The fans go crazy! Dhoni himself goes crazy, telling us to put whistle for CSK :)
Having said so much - Beach football. Tennis ball cricket. Footbard travel. The Rs. 3 juice shops and the 6 rupees paneer sodas. From the poshness of Boat club road to the local-ness of Nandanam housing board. From the mega ad hoardings at T-Nagar to the huge painted ads on crumbling tenements beside Kotturpuram bridge. From the clean and clear Mylapore tank to the stinky yet surprisingly feel good cooum river. From the overcrowded and over squeezed T-Nagar to the emptiness and grandeur of Guindy National Park…
Each and every building, object or environment is bound together with the oneness of the city’s humanity and humility. Every crumbling wall, every drop of water from the corporation tap, every molecule of everything that ever exists is wound together inevitably and cohesively with the indomitable spirit of Madras… Madras, namma Madras!
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