Friday, October 26, 2007

One a penny, two a penny, hot cross buns

You haven't lived if you haven't ever had a typical Indian send off.A Typical Indian Send off [new grammar rules, let the hyphen RIP!] [TIS] usually consists of the following:

1.Your hosts [think the Mummy, Papa, Dada,Dadi,Chacha,Chachi,Pappu,Babloo],Kanta Bai,Bahadur Bhaiya,Tommy,Twinkle Toes coming to the door to see you off.

2.The neighbours peeping through their door, and asking who'd come over.

3.The kids playing football in the street stopping to make way for your car, and then staring exasperatedly at you while you sniff, and hug, and sniff and hug, and sniff and hug, for some half an hour.

Now, if you're supremely unlucky, you'll also be made to eat dahi [think : Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi], like my mum did before my first Board Exam in the Tenth.[I puked it out! I was so nervous, I threw up! :P]

Anyway, so last week, my mum went to Kochi to visit her one of friends from school.Like a nice, dutiful joint Indian family, all of us trudged to the door.And the nice,dutiful family we are [did I mention that earlier?] we also hugged surreptitiously, and loaded the car, and stood there, waiting for her to leave for the airport.

Now this is a rather aimless post.And it also not about the TIS.Hence, I continue.

Now this is where it got fun.A sadhu came by, walking briskly, when seeing us, he stopped.He was of the typical orange clothes, braided, and messed about hair variety, and had a steel katora for alms.He looked at a watch on his wrist.He seemed to be calculating something, and then he frowned.Suddenly, he looked up."Shiv raksha karega, havaii udaan ki raksha karega, de de beta,ma ki bhalai hogi" I grinned, I mean, there's only so much of havaii udaan ki raksha I can take.The sadhu continued, promising safety at a rupee a bone, oblivious to my cynicism.Seeing he wasn't getting any attention, he gave me one last remorseful look, and went along his way.The car left.I closed the door, just about to latch it.

Suddenly, I heard him.I opened the door."Number ek sau do kahan hai?"
I went out, pointed out the house and saw him amble his way; making his way to the house where he had to perform a puja.So we were the in betweens - a quick buck while he was early for something else.

I stared.He was being greeted with garlands and people huddled to touch his toes, while he had
an expression of utmost serenity etched on his face. In the distance, I could just about hear-
"Aap itni jaldi aa gaye, Babaji?"
I sighed and latched the door shut.

PS: Sacrosancity is constantly evolving, my friends.And who wants to stick to the old anyway? So,
Do you wanna Mata?
Oh a Mata,
Do you wanna Mata?
Love me, love me say!

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

His only lament.

A mind bogglingly congested array of buildings. People clamoring out, rubies on their necks and the diamonds on their cuffs sparkling in the golden sunlight. Enough distraction to confuse just about anyone. Just about, though. Not me. I could see my target, my salvation, clearly among them - jostling with the gem laden. His flamboyance brought that familiar hardness back to my eyes. He just didn'

How could he not care? Millions had perished at his will; wives, children, parents...MY wife, MY children, MY parents. He didn't care; his opulence continued, as did my destruction. The caring was left for me to do, wasn't it?

I had to carry the burden of my survival - he wore his on his sleeve. I had to deal with the guilt of still living while others ravaged - his exploitative expeditions were a cause for celebration. My vision fogged as my reminiscence continued. I'd returned home, joyous, only to find corpses strewn around. Shattered windows : the glass of my shattered dreams. How could he?
I vowed I would show him what he'd done. Torment him the way he had tormented me.What was my folly, after all? That I lived in a country whose leader was one he couldn't see eye to eye with? Or that I was of a religion he found contemptuous, and to uplift us [oh, what moral values] he would first have to control us, showing his might by killing us?

Did he have to climb through mountainous ruins, searching a pulse in his lifeless son's body?
Did his parents mouths get eternally parted, uttering their son's name with their last breath?

The wind brought a chilling shiver to my bones and broke through my thoughts.I shifted, readjusting my position.I cross checked everything, and whispered a silent prayer, as the bomb on my jacket ticked its last.


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