Preeyanka

It’s quarter to six, the sun is still warm on my legs.

A ticket for one and some samosas to revive me,

I wait for the warning signal, my FL-12 is due.

 

No ladies coupe for me, I need leg and breathing space.

Light blue checks in pink, two bangles in each hand

Those nimble hands looked for the familiar clap.

 

Father and daughter, tender moments of catch-catch.

Generous, they shared their seat with me at 2^nd’bad,

“What is your name?” from a weary heart to a warm one.

 

This little bag of bones goes to a blind school in Malakpet.

Does not like the curd-rice and rasam they serve there,

Her laughs are feeble but full of life.

 

It’s summer vacation, the school called.

She is gonna be home until June 20th, err 12^th (she corrects).

Father’s youngest and dearest.

 

Even stoned faces after a day long work smiled.

She sees what she feels and lives what she feels,

Her “abbo!” for every shy expression and delight.

 

Father and I talked about Hyderabad and Delhi, Maharashtra.

They speak Telugu, Hyderabadi Hindi and are Kannada,

Preeyanka wants to grow up to teach Telugu.

 

One brother works in Satyam, brings home 6k!

Another in the printing press,2k less!

Father has a plant, from a humble 5k to 15 lakhs.

 

Asked me how much rent I pay?

He imagined my salary, I laugh gently. 

The vis-a-vis of the complex and the simple, their humble thrill.

 

Her little hand slipped into mine, played a few games, talked.

Asked me if I can come for tea, uhmm…

Hitec came, bye and be good. I should have.

 

 

 

 

a listless dying

dying is an art, believe me.
it can be passive, it can be quiet.
it can be national news, it can be anonymous.
it can be routine and in doses,
for all you know, it may be cheerful and not morbid.

you also have everyday dying,
where a lil' part of you ceases in various forms.
a small part of you gets bored and corroded
another part of your thoughts gets used to things and patterns,
habits and likewise.

like today, something died
the fairytale reality just took a U-turn
sensibilities and attitudes change
in the name of accommodation
many become martyrs.

my belief shook a lil, my fears a lil exposed
close ones go and those living live on
you choke on your own tears
a lil worried to share what i feel
lest, i am judged

so, dying becomes easy and
frowning cowardly.
you die in a crowd or on a hill top
you die alone, and misunderstood
like i care to explain why i die.

Arundhati

I watched Arundhati, a Telugu supernatural thriller. This movie eluded me for a long time. Since there was a power cut on a Saturday mid-day, it was a good idea to spend the afternoon watching a movie. The plot is beautifully woven with mythology. You can see the essence and power of Shakti at its regal best. The fable of Lord Indra’s weapon, the Vajrayudha (made from the backbone of Sage Dadichi) is borrowed here. For a Telugu movie, the role of the protagonist is one of the best I have seen, author-backed and believably real, that too for a woman!

Anushka’s alternate roles as the regal Jaijamma and the modern day Arundhati is beyond description. The supernatural spin might be a lil’ too much but she handled it so well. There are a few aha moments. I especially liked young Arundhati, with her doe eyes and when they spewed anger, they sure were full of fire. She was a delight to watch when she danced, when she practised fencing, horse- riding and also, when she pronounced the death sentence (almost with that finality) to her dangerously errant cousin and brother-in-law, Pasupathi (Sonu Sood). The ritual of entering the water to wash away the temporal-ness of her present life and take up the mantle of the kingdom was a strong poignant moment. There is a confident aggression which converts into a steely determination later on.

This lady loves red, her red saris and the self-portrait.  As long as things were under control, they were. When famine and disease afflicted her kingdom thanks to the mischief of Pasuapti’s pret atma, she wore the saffron robes and gave up her life to fight the ultimate battle. That is another moment. She didn’t flinch at her painful, slow and self-inflicted death. Those kohled eyes and the patch of vermillion, they are images that stay with you.

I won’t discuss the plot with you, it is up there for everyone, pretty predictable. Sonu Sood was good, extremely menacing and maniacal. I would hate to meet his mother (in the movie), she looks very hideous and scary. The Aghori Babas added that exotic flavour. The rest of the cast are the usual uncles and aunts, children and parents. Sayaji Shinde as the ghost buster Anwar was reassuring. Not as spooky as a Goosebump read.

school shoes

I hated the buckle girlie-shoes from Bata, I loved Naughty boy shoes, but when I got kicked, I got kicked badly. Admired Liberty shoes but never got to wear them. I used to reach school early and I normally sweat my guts out playing ready-ready with a few others. Before even Assembly began, my shoes were a dusty brown. Never got penalized. I had ways to get them cleaned. Running them on your black socks by the shin was such fun and easy, and if you dint want to dirty them, then use some thermocole. You have to bear that funny annoying noise but it works. 

When Papa was away and Ma was busy attending to 2-month old Bunty, she caned me one afternoon with the clothesline bamboo for getting my shoes dirty before Assembly. It’s funny because she got the longest stick which was difficult to maneuver and I hopped from one side to the other. I never dirtied my shoes after that. I only made them worse in the rainy months. The instruction is never to step outside, your shoes will tell the truth. I used to step outside only during the 3^rd period for a toilet break and it used to rain heavily and my shoes go soggy. I tell the truth, if I had played in the rain, I would have caught a cold or a fever. Papa threatened to not send me to school if the shoes don’t dry and I was never allowed rainy boots.The sun alwys unfailingly showed up. 

Once I was a big girl, that is class-5, I became super finicky about my shoes. Nobody should even step on them by mistake. After that, Papa never had to use much polish. Classmates laughed at me that I don’t polish my shoes and that I make Papa work. I fought with them many times. But hey, Papa has taught us how to polish shoes, just that he enjoys doing that for his children. Today, Papa misses doing those small lil’ things for any of his children, because we have all grown up and we have our ways and means of cleaning, polishing and maintaining them.It is another ritual when after breakfast I go and stand infront of Papa asking him to tie my shoe-laces. I always trusted him for that and also, that I will never trip on my shoe-laces if Papa did them. I learned doing them when I was a big girl :)

 

 

Not so Virgin and 'hatke'

I don’t think I like the Virgin mobile, think hatke ads on TV. They are so not tasteful. Almost, an oxymoron. Yeah, we have had outrageous ads in the past. Society and the moral police never were ready for creativity, per se to thrive. The bizarre is always unwelcome.

I am not moral-policing. But, I don’t see greater humanity and society moving anywhere close to ahead. We all want our children to be good, polite and nice to all forms of species. Our youngsters are fed on Jaagore and Jai Ho over time from a tumultuous Rang de Basanti, where sex read gender is not a qualifier to fight injustice and wrong things around us. You are human and sensitive, so you get affected, so you voice your feeling. If you don't care pretty much, then you are a wayside indifferent amoeba.

It’s seems mighty tickling for the whole nation to see a young lad on a hospital bed, his limbs plastered and his mobile ringing. Who is the caller? Not his parents. Or his ‘girl’friend. His friend in the other room. Both con-call to see the super butt of the made-to-look dumb nurse, who obliges to search his pockets, almost sincerely. Yes, our nurse is ‘hot’ by their and most TV viewers’ standards. Poetic justice when a not-so-manly compounder walks in. Reality check- our nurses are clean and professional(read nice), some are rude, some are careless, most are married (smiles) and hang me, if I am wrong- most underplay their sexuality, they are demure and ‘ordinary’ if you get what I mean. Our nurses know they are at a danger of being propositioned, I have heard weird tales from some who serve in different kinds of hospitals, especially defence hospitals. So, they are extremely careful of being caught come hither. Of course, you have exceptions. Which profession/ walk of life does not?

The newest Virgin ad is plain stupid. Some new Virgin handset needs promotion and branding. That way, I have always found Idea, Vodafone (formerly Hutch) and Airtel extremely innovative with their campaign quality. Target audience is never an issue. If Virgin thought by being cheeky, they will get the numbers…well, they need to re-think. Two friends, one fop-‘smart’ and the other fat-‘smart’. Fop’s girl is a rip-off of some wannabe P3 regular, jaunting in heels and shades, complete. The usual, I-know-what-you-are-up-to fishy thingy just that, she is really, truly gullible, or made to be one. Fat’s act is believable, DRAMEBAAZ! The flip/slide of the Virgin phone is the cue to fib. I lost the advertising sense of the product, even if it was think-aloud, played aloud SMS. Not being dumb, seriously. Granny is serious and hospital, is always a forever saviour. The ultimate is hiding the pub-entry seal (induced laughter). Need some salvation. Dumbo walks away, the two FFs waddle away like ducks. End of ad. No, this is not even sexist.

I am annoyed. The sense of cheating is rife. Someone’s simplicity even in the form of stupidity or dumbness is taken for a royal ride. The usual suspects. Make up, a hug, a pseudo kiss, maybe some feel-good sex- is that how cheating is covered?

I am still annoyed. Remove the Virgin tag. Maybe the hatke bit also.

Prologue to the almost

I've been lucky with some things in life-studies, work, friends, love too. No further questions and touchwood.

Not that we pursued, we hardly knew we existed. Again, not out of indifference but just out of sheer ignorance, you in your corner, I in mine- different worlds indeed, poles apart. We almost missed. Trust Coelho and his Alchemist magic.

I was never for love, but was always happy that people fell/rose/whatever in love. It was cute to see two people clumsy and crazy together, doing sweet somethings and nothings for each other. Often, the cynic (psst: no sour grapes) would also pass a mean one, tch tch!

I will tell you of a few close ones, really close ones. I shudder at the thought, not that they were bad…I would have been a disaster.

In school, friends bullied me royally to go for this guy because he was the one for so many, my logic- I am not. I was branded a chicken, scared of being caught by parents and all. I am one of the plainest of plain Janes around. Nothing can tick anyone or me. Period.

College in an all-girls environment, nothing romantic crossed my mind except for Jane Austen and Emily Bronte books. To have a mix of Darcy and Heathcliff is potently maddening, I thought.

University did not go without its fair share of crushes and you know, the occasional fight. My good friend broke up with his girl and for a year, was head over heels in love with me( I call it rebound). His cosmos married me off to his family- his parents doted on me, his siblings adored me, his aunts would just go ga-ga. The perplexed soul in me was wary. The poor chap had two dummy affairs before me to provoke me, sad. That also, dint work. He confessed to me that it was difficult to think sexually about me. I told him, give time. With time, both of us faded away from each other. We are still very good friends.

Another friend with 9 years of faithful love around him tells me to be faithful is tough. I was like whoa.

My friends love me and my chirpy chirpy yap-yap. Often the admiration gets diluted in some form of infatuation which is very normal. Keeping quiet is not a solution but running away from them, yeah.

A short stint at IIT got another mad boy on my trail. Thankfully, his crush lasted that summer and he is happily married teaching home science to his wifey dear.

Yes, I’ve had my share of crushes too. One- a goalkeeper at school, because he kept balls so well. He does not look great anymore.

Aamir Khan, in Dil Chahta Hai, well too filmi to believe but I had a crush on him.I also liked SRK in some movies, the middle class kinds.

While teaching at college, I was not resigned but never looked into that aspect at all. My parents once in a while asked me if something interesting is happening. I would brush it away in style.

My first 10 months in Hyderabad had me hooked to travel, shifting house 3 times and watching every new movie release. No time for love and bleh. Pretty much loved my singlehood and all the drama until love took me in style.

UTI and I

Started some months ago but i probably never realised it until i was badly hit,very badly hit. It's a horrible experience. I have heard painful stories from my female friends. Don't know how they went through what they went through.

With me,it started with an irritating backache,on the lower flank of my back, taking turns. Normally, i'd most oftenly dismiss it as a lifestyle issue, sitting before the computer or a monthly warning that those blue days will be here.Or i'll blame myself for not exercising enough, and i would get into a cleaning spree of wash-clean,clean-wash till i broke my back literally. So, what did i do those days? My best friend was my lil' red hot water bag and my can of Moov spray, some sleep and i was lucky if i got that amazing back-massage.So, this lil' dangerous menace never showed its true colours actually.

I am for water therapy all the time, do not consume non-veg food, stay off junk most times and live liberally on fruit juices and salads.Sometimes, they also fail.

I was in training for close to two weeks. AC and i are,well,not the best of friends.I have never used a fan all my life, forget AC- hazard of growing up in a cold climate with practically no pollution. The onslaught of AC- i contracted sinus, i always fear i have a backache, ACs do affect your spinal cord, trust me. So coming back to training, i would unfailingly call up maintenance and bully them to adjust the AC in the said training room.I live like an Eskimo- jacket, socks,a stole doubling up as a muffler- i would not have been outrageous if i wore mittens, the rooms are freezers. nevermind.

So the backache continues, my yoga and breathing exercises dint help me. the pain only gets more excruciating and unbearable for me. i would not contort my face but it was visibly palpable to people around me that i don't look well and slightly colourless and trust me, i never enjoyed being greeted this way.

A new symptom, brief fever everyday in the evening. I'd die to go home,swallow a paracetemol and curl up in bed under a sheet whispering mom and dad's name. i do that.Then, the usual chores.

The biggest and the most annoying symptom, frequent urination.I blamed the AC.My friends blamed my constant sipping of water, i thought that was good.With them, came the pains, a lil' below my navel,almost like someone is,very ruthlessly folding the different pouches and chambers into a small matchbox for a split second.My face did contort into a grimace.I'd hold my jaws together and let it pass.Leaving the training room every 20-30 mins was becoming very embarrassing but sorry.Thankfully,no one noticed.at one point i thought i should stop drinking water in that freezing environment then no loo visits. thankfully, i dint make that mistake and i am glad, i am alive.

Last wednesday and thursday were "the" days.I pulled on. Friday, i gave up. told myself, its viral. take rest, lots of fluids and i should be fine in the weekend.No,temperature was 104.Gowtham dragged me to his place.Aunty gave me one look,at my backpain and my posture. she shook her head and said, urinary infection dear. i dint reel but i reeled the following day. it was too late to visit any clinic/doctor for tests and all. i made gowtham promise he wont take me to any hospital.Some symptoms were similar to that of sunstroke, but it is always better to be prepared for the worst.Away from home in the lap and warmth of another home, what i adore about my extended family that i found in Gowtham's is their cheerfulness.they took me with open arms and aunty immediately asked me what i wanted to have. earlier while coming home, i very longingly looked at the roadside boy selling tender coconut water,ah.had that, a crocin, a full sponge bath amidst shivers, i went to sleep.

Next day, my fever left me.i motivated myself to move around with the anticipation of seeing a doctor finally.Visited a lab, met one of the few gentlemen not eroded by time and harship, Dr. Raghunath.very gentle spoken, kind who addressed me as "amma" throughout. asked me my life history,was very interested to be educated about literature,rather English and also, the quality and respectability of english in my part of the country.he reminded me of my family doctor when i was a kindergarten kid, Dr.JN Sinha.i begged him to give me an injection to bring the fever down or at least, a painkiller to kill the backpain. he refused both. he said let the body strengthen on its own, he would advise only a paracetemol until my blood and urine reports arrived.asked me to eat whatever i liked.asked me how does it feel when a doctor unnecessarily taxes you with unwanted investments and taxes.what he said dint cross my mind then but yes, now.he personally supervised in the blood test.i had to wait until 7:30 in the evening to confirm my worst fear. i was running from nursing home to nursing home waiting for a GP to show up. i swear, i hate doctors who hold to ransom their patients' lives by making them wait.they cannot play god.i went back to good ol' raghunath, unfortunately he does not treat for he is only a pathologist.i said that's why i came to you.i know no one. he personally called up a senior surgeon,dr harsha from the hyderabad nursing home at basheerbagh and got my medicines prescribed.for that, the bonhomie between and among doctors is an admirable quality.from cordialities to how your daughter is doing and repeated apologies for having disturbed. i am sure the surgeon humoured or old gentleman.another urine sample, called culture test.reports due on monday.

The relief of having a prescription and the impatience of starting my medication asap just ate into me. Poor Gowtham handled my cantankerous behaviour.Came home, downed some solid food,I swallowed all pills at the same time.My body was throbbing with fever,my back achingly painful and head heavy, I slept. I remember aunty and Gowtham giving me a sponge treatment.Uncle and granny amma were concerned. Forgot who called, who SMSed.apologies.

Sunday morning, woke up feeling much better and in better spirits. I remember, I was chased with food. I literally behaved like a brat.Aunty would cajole me to eat a lil, drink a lil'. Everyone would stand and stare.Ok, behave. Now eat and drink if you want to get well soon.I also had a head bath in full gutso and gusto(err..something wrong here),washed my clothes despite protests and felt myself on cloud nine. By afternoon after medicines and lots of barley soup, raagi soup,tender coconut water, good home cooked food, I take to slumber. I also run a fever again.We had plans of going out in the evening to pick up clothes for Gowtham, I had to drop out. I slept with a nagging headache the entire afternoon, carried on the same battle the entire night. regretted terribly having a head bath. Formally announced/SMSed about my condition.

Monday morning,same nagging headache. Spoke to Dr. Raghunath.Uncle collected the report,I slept like a log the whole day.Bugged Gowtham to allow me to play a lil' with his laptop. He is my lil' big brother. I was just rewinding in time, of all the haa-haa times and also, the uh-oh and hmmph times.The sense of responsibility and the enormous affection he has for me just humbled me. I admit I am impatient, even with myself.I am as good as normal now. Have to stick to another 3 days of medicines and I am good to go.

Wanted to go home but some music stopped me.I leave on holi and am mentally prepped to carry a bottle of Dettol to sanitise all WCs I use and a sanitiser at my desk,drink boiled cool water and lots of fluids. Even if this is paranoia, I could not care less. iIgot away with very lil' to lose. There are people who suffer more and longer and don't trust Wikipedia information on UTI, I was scandalized. Stay safe.

Smiles.