Those who write clearly have readers, those who write obscurely have commentators.
-Albert Camus
Friday, September 30, 2005
The homecoming
Sometimes by stroke of luck, I manage to get brain waves. Sometimes, someone sets me thinking on something, which was always there in front of me and that leaves me wondering, why did I not think of it in the first place. The other day, I was in a slightly downbeat mood. My dear bro broke the news that he was sailing away to the western shores rather unexpectedly, within a week or so. And that day, he also announced that he aint flying through B'bay.
Now, we share a very buddy-buddy, partner-in-crime type relationship. I was this elder sis who he emulated [At least for sometime in life! :-)]. He had his self-proclaimed birthright on all my schoolbooks, my comics, my games and sports. Being 2.5 years younger to me, he knew which story is the best in my English textbook; he knew all the multiplication tables, that a 7 year old ought to know, at 5. Needless to say, he was the one of the popular kids, the teacher's pet varieties. All the reputation, I took years to build, he managed in less than half the time. But there were some things I was lauded for which was enough to keep me err... motivated. I was the hard-working, systematic, quiet and obedient kid with a good handwriting and flair for drawing. [Teachers' observations, you see… :p]. And he was a talkative, intelligent, naughty yet adorable bag of mischief with an awful handwriting.
I remember one particular incident when he was in III or IV class and it was the mid term examination results time. He had scored 50/50 in all subjects, but had got an 'F' in Art and Craft. So his sure-shot first rank turned into a no rank because of his flunk grade. This, his class teacher announced to me with utmost sympathy while, in the last bench he was busy tweaking ears of the girl ahead of his bench and ducking for cover. I went home wailing and howling and told mum, how bad it was that he lost out on his first rank while he walked home with a triumphant what-is-all-the-fuss stride. It’s different that the Art teacher converted the 'F' to 'C' the next day and let him have his rank. But I was amazed at his 'bindaas', blithe attitude to life. Not much has changed even now. He is the same cool kid except that he's grown into a huge, ominous 6 ' frame.
To think of it now, we have lived apart more than the times spent under the same roof. We don’t talk to each other for over a month sometimes. But I can definitely say he is my best confidante and knows me more than anyone else. He's been privy to all my crushes, heartbreaks, turmoil’s and he’s also been the one who has kicked my butt the most [rather he’s the one to whom I've allowed the privilege.;-)]. We've had our share of pillow-fights, fist-fights [Thankfully this was when I was a taller, stronger, authoritative sister], truces, adolescent embarrassments of each other around in our circle of friends.
I guess I am totally off-track into memory lane from what I had set out to post. So last week, after he said he's flying to US, I was kinda morose that I wouldn't be seeing him for a year or maybe more. Out of exasperation of seeing a grumpy, sulky face for a while too long, S suggested why not I go to Bangalore and see him during the weekend. My mood swung from extreme gloom to extreme glee within seconds and I started making plans to making a quick trip. Thanks to all these no-frill, all-frill, short-skirt-crewed airlines doing the rounds in the country off late, I managed reasonably decent-priced flight tickets to and fro. The catch being that my homecoming would be a complete suspense. After all, it was my first trip home after marriage and somewhat special in that sense.
I woke up groggy at 430 on Saturday morning and managed to get into the flight at an unearthly hour and was promptly received by my dearest friend M at the airport. Cruising through bad traffic and unknown routes, she managed to take me home in one piece - my excitement with the suspense building on with every moment. I was visualizing that I'd ring the bell and look at the surprised faces and gleeful hugs from folks when they open the door.
We lost our way getting home and had to get bro to wait at some significant landmark. First suspense broke right there but it was ok. He was too shocked to say anything until we got home... ;-) The door was open ajar when I got home and so the ringing-bell-gleeful-hug option was off too and worse still, dad was right in the middle of the living room talking away on the phone, not able to show any surprise. Mum had stepped out for some shopping and was on her way back, when dad managed to catch her from the balcony and break the suspense by telling her too. So there...! My suspenseful antics came to an end rather predictably. And after all the hugs and squeals, I had to hear stuff like, "we knew that you'd be coming after all"... *hmmph*
Tried a bit of short story telling in the past. But 55 word short story, hmm.. Anyway, thanks to swathi, my chance to spin a yarn...
She was this sprightly, intelligent, sensible kid, apple of her parents eyes, pampered with freedom that she deserved and gifts she did not ask. Her fierce sense of independence was intriguing; her achievements were moments of pride and failures were moments of cheered hugs. Until one day, when she turned 27... and still single.
To keep the custom going, I'd like to tag meeta and lavi.
And I just got back after a short, relaxed trip to Goa. What can be more blissful than watching the seawaves for hours on end, lazing by the swimming pool, reading a book, listening to the birds, watching TV, doing nothing at all, riding bikes without a license on empty roads, watching pitter-patter of the raindrops from the balcony, good food and some Vodka to heighten the spirits... :-)
I am back from UK and had a swell time. Was a memorable stay albeit lengthy hours at work, sleepless nights and even more hectic weekends. The most hated activity through the trip was shopping. I never had much of a penchant to shop even otherwise and racking my brains to come up with meaningful gifts for near-and-dears was turning out to be very wearisome and putting me into some sort of depression.
Long distance air travel can be very very tiring. One can’t get up and stretch when one wants to like in rail travel. The enormity of the flights and the number of people the airliner can seat can make you claustrophobic sometimes. The sight of matronly airhostesses and their curt demeanor can tire you some more.
I liked the jetlag part the best. One just had to mention the word at home to get pampered and saved off the guilt of lazing around. :-)
I land in Mumbai and the rains had to happen. I think I might have done something to displease the rain gods in my previous birth that they stalk after me so much wherever I go - Manchester or Andaman, Mumbai or Gujarat.
I like my unemployed status at work right now. Getting around to write long mails to people who have probably forgotten my existence and waking them from their reverie and finishing all my quota of blog reading.
And before I forget to mention, my day is made by this hot firang client from my ex-project. I have always heard about his Greek-god type looks from a lot of my colleagues and I have been dying to meet him ever since. Today, I gate crashed into this video conference just to have a glimpse of him and guess what, not only did I get a chance to see him, but I, also, got a few explicit words of praise and thanks for all the good work I had done in the past from him. I have been dazed ever since today. I guess I will have a good sleep tonight...:-)
Been a rather dreary last week with work, work and more work. No time to marvel at the lovely petunias and germaniums growing wild in the pavements and dividers of the motorway, no time to watch cute old couples walking around holding each others hands and looking at each others’ eyes, no time to watch cute little blonde girls with pink cheeks, wearing pink clothes and pink shoes, no time to look at the young college going kids displaying their cleavage in the front as well as the rear..;-)
No time to crib about the shops that believed in shutting down by 5:30 in the evening, no time to notice the most sexiest cars of the world zipping past, no time to notice how friendly and nice some people can be – especially the old people, no time to think that there is so much left to shop for near and dear, no time to see what’s latest with Katrina’s and the epidemics of the world, no time to notice the English stiff-upper-lip sloshed in alcoholic stupor in the weekend, no time to notice how globalized the country is, no time to gape in awe at the amount of potatoes people consumed in this country, no time to notice how uninhibited the lovers are in this country with their display of err.. affection..:-)
Anyway, I guess one gets the gist now about how busy in life I was. But anyways, I also had my share of fun covering Lake District, New Castle, Yorkshire and Wales over the last two weekends and also managed to do some driving in this country. Driving an SUV does give you such an intoxicated kick. It’s one of my dreams to own one some time in life. Also managed to see Llandudno in Wales where Lewis Carroll wrote Alice in Wonderland.
But at the end of it all, I miss home, I miss its people, I miss the hustle and bustle and the frenzied lifestyle, I miss the traffic jams and honks, I miss the hot pepper rasam and rice on a cold winter morning, I miss the fact that room-mates in India were far more sweeter and easy-going, I miss the splurging and enjoying what I buy, I miss the Hindi serials, I miss the Hindi movies, I miss waking up late on a Saturday morning, I miss my predictable mundane lifestyle, I MISS my old life and I just cant wait to get back.
Hopefully by end of the week! The image there is that of Lake Keswick, one of the lakes in Lake district.