Peanut Butter and Jelly

For the last couple of weeks I have been meaning to go somewhere and do something different on the weekend rather than just head to a pub or a restaurant and chill out. I invited a few office colleagues for a day long trek to Tungareshwar falls near Mumbai. The plan was to leave early on Sunday morning. Yes, you may think I am crazy to wake up at 5 am on a Sunday, but I just wanted to get out of town. 

There were four of us (Peanut Butter, Jelly, Brother Grimm, and Fire Breathing Dragon a.k.a. me) were going for the trek. All of us met up at the Andheri station and took the train to Vasai. I thought that rather than plan the entire trek, it would be more fun to explore the area as the day progressed. But alas, Peanut Butter was not entirely happy with the idea and was quite perturbed that there was no concrete plan in place. In any case, after a forty minute train journey we reached Vasai. From there, we first took a local bus and then an auto rikshaw to reach the foothills. The auto-rikshaw driver told us that there was a Shiva temple and a waterfall about 3 kms away and it would be a pleasant trek. So there we were, all set to go.

To start the trek, we had to cross a bridge on a stream with gushing water. Just as we were about to go across, we saw a group of college going kids also getting ready for the trek. We thought it would be best to get a head start and not get caught behind them. But Jelly had other plans. I started crossing the bridge and was followed by Brother Grimm. A few seconds later we heard a noise. I turned back, and what did I see? Jelly had some how managed to fall off the bridge into the stream. After getting him out, we got the details of the fall. Our man had decided to jump from a one rock to another- a mini leap of faith of sorts. On landing, Jelly twisted his ankle and instead of stopping and falling right there, and possibly breaking his face, he bounced and wobbled about for a couple of feet till he completely lost his balance and fell. I could not help but laugh at the whole incident. Picture it in your head and I am sure even you'll be doing the same thing. If someone had shot a video, it would have gone viral within minutes and become the next big thing after Rebecca Black on all social networking websites. Fortunately, Jelly did not get hurt/ bruised anywhere during his clumsy balancing act. Unfortunately, his ankle was badly sprained.

Meanwhile, Jelly had suddenly become the darling of the paparazzi. College kids were taking out their DSLR cameras and were furiously clicking photos of Jelly. But since he cut a very sorry picture, the group decided to move on and began taking snaps of cows sitting on the other side of the stream. After about five minutes, I asked Jelly to move his ankle to see what condition it was in. I even asked him to walk around to find out whether he could come with us for the trek. Yes, I was a bit pushy, but only a tad bit. Jelly was about to walk when Peanut Butter stepped in. She was the Knight in Shining Armor, and was there to protect the wounded damsel (Jelly) in distress from the Fire Breathing Dragon (a.k.a. me). (By the way Jelly also happens to be Peanut Butter's boss.) She empathized with Jelly and ordered the Dragon to shut up. How could I not understand how painful a sprained ankle feels? Even though Jelly had not raised his voice, Peanut Butter decided that she could not let the Dragon dictate terms to poor old Jelly. Apologies for getting melodramatic, but had there been a sword, Peanut Butter would have thrust it in my gentle caring heart.

It was decided that Jelly head back home. Brother Grimm, who was silent all this while, and I volunteered to fetch an auto rikshaw while Peanut Butter lent a shoulder of support to Jelly and helped him get to a safe location. After about fifteen to twenty minutes we found a guy who was willing to take Jelly to the closest railway station. The plan was that he would go home and the three of us would continue the trek. After all, all of us had woken up early on a Sunday and had come this far. Continuing on the trek seemed the logical thing to do. Or so I thought. Peanut Butter had had enough of the Dragon and she was in no mood to go along with him especially when Jelly was in pain. Citing the inauspicious start, the incessant rain and the utter lack of planning, Peanut Butter decided it was best to head back with Jelly. 

And thus, came to an end, Peanut Butter and Jelly's trek.

Lets Put A Smile On That Face

A couple of weeks back, I went to Nasik, a town about 200 kms from Bombay, for a two day visit for work. There were three others accompanying me: Little Bro, The Joker, & Hopeless Optimist. We had to conduct a bunch of interviews and focus group discussions about a housing project. The idea was to reach on Friday morning, conduct a few interviews, finish the rest on Saturday, and then head back. Friday went more or less as planned and nothing exciting happened. The following day, we skipped lunch in a bid to wrap up work quickly. At about five in the evening, famished, we got inside our taxi to leave for Bombay. Everyone wanted to just get back home, probably go out and have fun on a Saturday night. Except for The Joker. He had other plans.  And unfortunately you can't mess with him. He was keen to go to the Sula wine yards, and that was that. He had heard that there was a real nice restaurant where we could wine-n-dine. He convinced Little Bro, and after some time, Hopeless Optimist and I gave in too. Bombay had to wait.

We reached the wine yard in about half an hour's time. To The Joker's credit, the place was beautiful. There was a distillery and a restaurant on the far end, and to reach there, we had to drive through the wine yard. The sun was setting behind the hills and we could see a few people sitting in the balcony on the first floor sipping wine. The setting was perfect. Thought of good food with good wine got our juices flowing.

This is where it all went down hill. Now, you would expect a place like this to be serene, one that plays mellow music which is soothing to your ears. But, what did we hear on entering the place? A loud variant of 'Hit Me Baby One More Time' by Britney Spears. We let it go, after all the food was more important than the background music. This is when we got our second shock. The damned 'restaurant' was not serving any food, well except for Jerry's favorite - cheese & crackers. My stomach shrunk, Hopeless Optimist's jaw dropped and Little Bro became grumpy. The Joker had to keep his composure since he was the one who had brought us to this place. Nonetheless we decided to try out a white wine on the waiter's recommendation. Now I am not much of a wine guy and I can't differentiate between a Chardonnay and a Chenin Blanc, so when I had a sip, I had no clue whether it was good or bad. I turned to the others to see whether they liked it. The expression on Hopeless Optimist's face was priceless. She was clearly not happy. This was not her idea of a Saturday evening: sitting in a wine yard, drinking not so good wine, eating cheese on a famished stomach, and listening to the latest pop numbers. 

We cleared the bill and left feeling disappointed. (While heading out, I picked up a bottle of red wine for my colleague, Shiny - the name refers to his balding hair patch). On the way to Bombay, we stopped at a dhaaba (a local restaurant), ate some real food with enough oil to increase my blood cholesterol level by a few percentage points, poured Sula's finest into steel tumblers, and guzzled it. 

The w(h)ining experience was over and our smiles were back.

Double Fault

I love playing outdoor sports, and was lucky to represent my college in Tennis right from my freshman year. The biggest event of the year for a sportsman in IIT is the annual Inter - IIT Meet. It is a week long event, hosted  by a different IIT every year in which nerds from seven colleges from across India battle each other in various sports competitions to come out on top. (Just in case you don't know what IIT stands for, it is the The Indian Institute of Technology). It was, and continues to be our 'Olympics'. To be fair to us, our level of playing is not abysmal. Since IIT-Delhi, my alma mater, did not host the event while I was at college, I had the chance to visit four other campuses.

In my freshman year, we were Guwahati bound for the meet. There were about a hundred and twenty of us representing the college in various disciplines such as Cricket, Football, Tennis, Track & Field events, etc. It was a forty hour journey by train and we had two full compartments to ourselves. Since my team mates were flying down later, I was tagging along with the Football team as I knew a few squad members. At about two in the morning I was woken up by some commotion. I opened my eyes and saw a few chakkas/ eunuchs asking my fellow college mates for money. I pretended to be asleep, but that didn't stop them from waking me up. Everyone in the coach was woken up and asked for money. A friend, I shall call him Prey (for reasons you will soon found out), was also woken up. He claimed he had no money and hence could not shell out anything. Slap !!!. Right across the face, tight and hard. I was in no mood to face similar music so I removed a hundred rupee note from my wallet and handed it peacefully to the eunuch. He/she/it wanted more. I told her that I had only hundred more bucks left for the entire journey and pleaded to leave me alone. I was saved. But alas, Prey wasn't as lucky as me. He wanted to be a smart ass, and as a result, paid the price. After refusing the second time, he was punched, this time with a ring. To make matters worse, he had been hit right on the eye and was screaming in pain. They let him go and proceeded to hassle others. In a span of twenty minutes, the entire contingent was swindled, assaulted, and no one could do anything. After a while, things calmed down and we went back to sleep. The next morning everyone was cheerful once again, except Prey. He did not speak for about four hours and was just looking out of the window with a serious face and a black eye. We even made a video of him sulking, but I am not sure who has it now. The best part, Prey dawned the number six jersey for the football team. (To make things clear, eunuchs are also called chakkas in Hindi. The word chakka refers to the number six). 

Now, fast forward a year, and I am in the Inter IIT meet in Bombay. It was our bronze medal match. The previous day, I had strained a muscle and it was paining a lot. I badly needed to do something as my movement was hampered. Now, Tennis in Inter IIT is a team sport and is played in the Davis Cup best of five matches format in which you have two singles, one doubles and then, if need be, you play reverse singles. I was to play the second singles match which gave me time to sort out the problem. What I did next, is something I will advice no sane person do. It was an act of desperation, one which I shall never forget. I took a bottle of quick relief Volini, and sprayed it on the areas where I was hurt. A good idea right? In most cases it would be, but not when your applying the spray to your groin. I was jumping around like a rabbit. It was burning 'down there' and I could nothing about it. I was screaming inside my head. I tried everything possible, water, did not help, ice, nothing. The Bombay humidity played its part in aggravating my condition. It was plain bad. The only good thing, my muscle pain was gone, but the burning sensation was still present. I played my match hopping around and lost. In all fairness, my opponent played well and as a result we did not win the bronze medal. 

Apart from having fun playing in Inter IIT competitions, I learned a couple of lessons for life, such as:- if a eunuch asks you for money in the middle of the night, you just hand it over without acting smart and never, I mean never, use any spray close to, you know where. Never. 

An Unforgettable Night

For this particular entry, I shall go back in time and narrate an experience from the past. It was my nineteenth birthday and my friends & I decided to head out of town for the weekend to explore a new place. We had no destination in mind and were going to figure it out once we reached the bus stand. On reaching, we saw an over night bus leaving for Chandigarh, and hopped on to it for no rhyme or reason. The next morning, Tolia, who was familiar with the place, took the lead and became our guide for the day. We visited the rock garden (which has statues made out of bathroom fittings- classy right?), went boating in the lake and ate authentic Punjabi delicacies.

Sometime in the afternoon, Tolia suggested that we should go to Manikaran, a place with hot springs. With the winter setting in, none of us had any issues with the idea. The plan was to board the 9 pm bus which would take us to Bhuntar, a village in Himachal Pradesh, and from there change buses to reach the final destination. After getting on to the bus, we tried to sleep, but it was nearly impossible to do so as the ride resembled that of a roller coaster, with the only difference being that the bus journey lasts more than just a couple of minutes. As the driver pushed the engine to its limits in the hilly terrain, the machine moved like a raging bull, and we tossed and turned and fell on each other, and our stomachs made noises which I had never heard before. Our topsy-turvy trip finally ended when the driver brought the bus to a halt at about three in the morning. We had reached Bhuntar. The bus dropped us and sped away continuing its wild ride.

We were expecting a bus stop, a chai wallah ( a tea stall) maybe, but all we saw were a few huts, and a desolate fork junction, with one road leading to Manali and the other to Manikaran and the Beas river flowing in between the two. There was no trace of anyone except two burly guys, Hilly & Billy, standing next to a van waiting for a parcel. I wonder which courier service delivers at such an unearthly hour. Chinki, Roy, & I started chatting with them to figure out our next steps to reach the hot springs. The bad part - there were no buses for another two to three hours. The good part- there was a Gurudwara, a Sikh temple, one kilometre away where we could take refuge until morning.  After taking note of the directions, we set out on foot. Tolia was not happy at the prospect of speaking to strangers as he did not trust them but we told him to chill out and relax. Just as he was getting calmed, a van stopped in front of us (yes, it was similar to the sets of a shady movie in which a van with tinted windows screeches to halt and out come the kidnappers). Hilly had picked up his parcel of boxes and was offering to drop us, but we politely declined. He insisted a couple of times, and in the end we reluctantly climbed inside. Apart from the fact that we were in a van with two strangers and each of them, twice as big as any of us, was capable of knocking us out unconscious, there was no reason to worry.

Minutes into the drive, it was Billy's turn to be hospitable. He told us to come to his place where he would prepare some freshly brewed tea. We declined again, but unfortunately they don't take no for an answer in Bhuntar. We reached Billy's house and he asked us to follow him to a staircase which was going down to a room in the basement of a building. Hilly followed closely behind. I kid you not, moments later- Billy lifted a shutter to open a room, and proudly announced it as his shop. And no, I am not imagining any of this. Why were we going to a stranger's shop, which had shutters, in a basement to have tea while the entire world was sleeping? Was I the only one freaking out? A quick glance at my friends' faces told me the story; I was not alone. Needless to say, I was not very keen to go in. As my friends went inside, I stayed out on the pretext of an incoming call (the phone did not even ring). Fortunately the two men did not doubt that someone else was awake at this hour and wanted to speak to me at the precise moment when I was about to step inside the shop. In about five minutes, things settled down and the drama ended. No, there were no fist fights, kidnappings, escapes and chases; that would have been a little too much. In any case, Hilly & Billy turned out be nice guys and as we sat sipping piping hot tea, which I must admit was really nice, Hilly told us stories about his life. Nearly an hour later, we bade the two good bye, thanked them for their hospitality, and started walking towards Manikaran. It was a moon lit night with beautiful scenery - hills on one side of the road and the Beas river on the other. At about six in the morning, nearly three hours after we had gotten off from the bus, a pair of headlights approached us and we put out our hands to stop the vehicle. It turned out be a truck and not a bus. True to the hospitable nature of the region, the driver offered us a lift. Given that we had sat in a stranger's van and gone to his friend's shop to have tea in the middle of the night, we had no qualms travelling by a truck. Contrary to what people think, trucks are extremely comfortable. There was a bed behind the driver's seat with a really soft mattress and within minutes the four of us dozed off to catch some much needed sleep. On reaching Manikaran, we gave the driver some nominal amount as a token of appreciation and left for the springs. And thus, came to an end, a very eventful night.

The rest of the day, we bathed in the hot springs, took an hour long ride on the roof of a bus to Kullu, where we did white water rafting, went to Manali to see a Dusshera fair and finally headed back to Delhi in the night. On reaching my room the next morning, I thanked my stars, crashed on my bed and slept peacefully for hours together as I had spent the previous three nights in those crazy buses.

The Sound of Silence

Have you ever traveled in a bus or a train and sat next to a person who goes on chatting about an issue in his/her life to someone on the phone? It is an annoying experience. The characteristics of such a person are: he/she does not talk softly, does not bother about the choice of words, and talks endlessly oblivious of the fact that other passengers exist. Thankfully, aircrafts don't allow use of cell phones on a flight, but I am afraid that day is not far when technology will enable us to connect to our dear and loved ones even when we are thousands of feet above the ground.

Recently, I took a train from Mumbai to visit my maternal grandparents in Surat. The journey was not a planned one, and as a result I did not have a reserved ticket. So I reached about half an hour prior to the train departure to figure out a way to travel. After asking around, I came across a guy who was selling a ticket at a premium. This guy also served meals on the very same train I was about to board. I paid the money, and took my seat next to a lady in her late twenties or early thirties. When I sat down, she gave me a disgusted expression. Maybe she was expecting her Prince Charming to come sweep her off the feet, and I wasn't him. But that was not the reason why she was upset, as I soon found out. 

She dialed a number on her phone and started talking. I was not at all interested in her phone call and stared out of the window engrossed in my thoughts. Now, I can be very absent minded, and sometimes not even know what is happening around me. But this woman, who I shall call "Chatter Box" (for obvious reasons), had taken upon herself to deprive anyone in the radius of ten feet of any peace what so ever. I am not one to pry upon others' conversations, but the pitch of her voice, the choice of language and animated expressions caught my attention. She was telling a friend of hers (I pity him) about how a guy ("The Dog"- one of the many things she called him) in her office had not been courteous and chivalrous and how he had abandoned her on Woman's Day. Initially I thought he had dumped her. But that was not the case. The Dog had booked his train ticket, but not hers. And for this blasphemous act, she wanted to crucify him and report him to his superiors. Although I have heard girls swear before, I was not expecting a lady of the age of Chatter Box to go all guns blazing in three different languages at the stroke of dawn. Talk about waking up on the wrong side of the bed. In any case, after about thirty minutes she finally cut the call, but by no means was she satisfied or at peace with the situation. Still furious, she picked up the phone, punched in some digits, woke up another friend out of deep slumber, repeated the same story, only with different cuss words, apologized for waking the poor chap up, bade him goodbye, kept the phone and dozed off to sleep herself. After what seemed like an eternity, the train coach was finally peaceful. I must say, a very polite woman. 

While all this was happening, I had taken out my diary to pen down the events for a blog entry. I finished scribbling minutes before reaching Surat. As the train approached the station, I packed up my belongings and got up to go near the exit. Chatter Box too had to get down, and was standing behind me. Just before stepping out, she said to me: "Excuse me... I never thought anyone would write about me....but I think you could have done better." Realizing what had happened, I smiled at her, told her it was my first draft and got down.

The Wild Bunch

The trip had been planned months in advance. Three of my friends were flying/ driving down to Mumbai for a weekend. I shall call them Tiny Tim, Uber Cool, & Wily Coyote. Initially, we were planning to make a road trip to Goa, but decided to stick around Bombay since a weekend is just not enough for Goa. So once all of us had met up, we headed to my apartment. And although I live in a Jain society where one is not allowed to consume alcohol, it was nonetheless decided that we should have a drinking binge. For some reason, Tiny Tim wasn't in a mood to drink that night. But that did not stop the rest of us. So through the night, the three of us consumed a bottle and a half of vodka & rum. At about 5 in the morning Tiny Tim, Uber Cool & Wily Coyote drove down to South Bombay to see the beach and the sea. I on the other hand, dozed off on the makeshift bed in the hall. I finally woke up at about 2 in the afternoon, not in the hall but in the bed room. Apparently Uber Cool had just flung me over there to create some space for the 3 of them. I was also told that, sometime in the morning, I woke up, stood up on the bed and was looking to charge towards my closet. Had it not been for my flat mate who was getting ready to go to work at that time, I probably would have cracked my skull and knocked myself out with a big bump on my head. The surprising thing is that, I have no recollection of this. And I don't think I was trying to run a 100 m dash in my dreams as well.

Now, the four of us have known each other for the past couple of years at college. For some reason, Tiny Tim always liked picking on Uber Cool. Tiny Tim has a habit of speaking fast. So by the time Uber Cool would comprehend one line, Tiny Tim would have already spoken another 3 or 4 sentences and all Uber Cool could do, apart from being lost, was to give a 100 watt smile. It was Tiny Tim's way of messing around with Uber Cool. Coming back, we went out for lunch to an Italian joint close by. They were showing the Australia vs England cricket match. The Aussies were doing pretty well, but the match was not over and there was a chance that England might pull off a victory. Following was the conversation that went on for a couple of minutes:

Tiny Tim   : If I bet 100 bucks and England wins, will you give me 100?
Uber Cool: Ya
Tiny Tim   : Would you give me 150 if I bet 100?
Uber Cool: Ya
Tiny Tim   : What about 200?
Uber Cool: Ok
Tiny Tim   : and 300?
Uber Cool: No
Tiny Tim   : Why?
Uber Cool: Because thats a lot for an England win
Tiny Tim   : That means somewhere between 200 & 300, you think that it is not worth betting against an England win. So you should turn it around and bet on England to win at 300 right?

Uber Cool: I guess so
Tiny Tim   : Fine, you bet 100 and if England win, I will give you 300. Is that cool?
Uber Cool: No
Tiny Tim   : Why?
Uber Cool: No
Tiny Tim   : What happened?
Uber Cool: ............
Tiny Tim   : What?
Uber Cool: (A sheepish smile)

It took 5 minutes for Uber Cool to realize that his logic was flawed. To which he replied, "I don't want to bet on England".

Moving on, the following night, 6 of us (2 friends had joined us) went to a pub just before it was closing. Two tables away, there were 3 girls and 2 guys sitting. One of the girls was talking at the top of her voice. We dared Tiny Tim to go and tell her to talk softly. Don't let the name fool you, Tiny Tim is a real confident ass whooper. So, without batting an eye lid, he got up, went to the table, told something in the ear of the guy (let's call him the Villain) sitting next to the loud mouthed girl, came back & sat down. We asked him as to why he did not say anything to the girl, to which he replied assuredly "You never tell a girl that, always tell the guy with her". We were quite impressed. About five minutes later, the Villain got up from his seat, came close to Tiny Tim and gave him an earful. The expression on Tiny Tim's face was no longer a picture of confidence. Tiny Tim was raging with anger. The Villain had apparently abused Tiny Tim and told him to meet him outside after drinks. Three people (including me) on our table had stayed in Bombay for six months, but no one had any "pull" or "connections" in case things go out of hand. On the other hand, the Villain was making call after call on his cell phone, probably trying to get people to back him. Everyone (except Uber Cool & I) was boasting as to how they could have taken care of the Villain in Delhi. Tiny Tim realized that it would not be a wise decision to challenge the Villain on his home turf and kept on saying "kat gayi yaar" (read: "we are screwed"). To his credit, he was not scared of the confrontation and was even willing to take a punch and get a black eye. Thankfully, none of that happened, and after having a shot of Tequila, we quietly slipped out without making a fuss.

All this while, Wily Coyote has been out of the picture. He is a simple man who I am sure one day will be mentioned in the same breath as Captain Edward Murphy (the great mind behind Murphy's Laws). I remember a couple of years back, while driving his car, he said very philosophically:- "katna hai ...toh kategi" (read: "if you can be screwed, you will be"). He is a guy who would probably be the first to run from a confrontation (like the one I mentioned before) and shoot a video of everyone else getting beaten up so that he can have a hearty laugh later. You see, he likes to remain out of the spotlight. This happens to be true when one has to pay the bill also. It was an understood fact that the four of us would be treating each other for at least one meal. Or so we thought. Wily Coyote, the escapist he is, brought not a Visa, not a Master Card, but a Maestro debit card with him on the trip. The only problem:- Maestro is not accepted by most restaurants, and as it turned out, in none of the places we went to. So whenever it was time to clear the check/bill, he would flash his Maestro as if he could buy the entire place with it, only to realize, that it was of no value. In fact a couple of times, he even went to an ATM. And guess what, even the machine refused to accept his card.

In the middle of trying to kill one self, becoming bookies, picking bar fights and taking the ad campaign- "Visa Power: Go Get It" to a whole new level, we had a ball of a time and laughed our hearts out.

ummm...I can explain Officer

The incidents that I am about to pen down took place about 6 years ago. My cousins, a couple of friends and I had gone on a trip to Ranikhet, a hill station in Uttarakhand. It happens to be a beautiful valley with lots of creeks surrounded by vegetation. In the month of December, the place is very quiet and serene. There is not much to do over there apart from seeing the natural beauty and going on treks in the nearby hills.

As far as I remember, we went trekking every day. On one of those days, we decided to pack our lunches, and head out into the wilderness. After spending time on a small waterfall, climbing down on broken trees, taking snapshots of each other, we decided to head back to our hotel. Unfortunately, with all the twists and turns that we had taken throughout our trek, we did not remember the way back. It did not bother us too much as we could see civilization in the distance. After about an hour or so, we came across some abandoned military posts and shooting ranges. At about six in the evening, we reached a military academy which seemed quite deserted. This was the first time I had been on the inside of a military academy and I was quite fascinated by the equipment and the training facilities they had. One thing that comes clearly to my mind, is a rope hanging from a cross- bar. My friends and cousins took turns to hang on the rope and pull themselves up. Now, I have seen many a Bollywood/ Hollywood movie where the hero is hanging by the rope and he pulls himself up by the sheer strength of his arms. Even though I am very thin with no muscles whatsoever, I had confidence in my abilities and decided to give it a shot. In a moment or two, I realised that I was no Tom Cruise in a Mission Impossible movie so I decided to have fun and started swinging on the rope and at the same time making a lot of noise. At this point, I saw two soldiers charging towards us with guns in hand, shouting at me to get down. Our entry had apparently caused a security breach and the military wasn't exactly happy with us. After telling them our story, which they thankfully believed, we finally did head for our hotel. We had a nice dinner sitting next to a bon fire and went to sleep.

Me-Swinging in the military academy

On our way back from Ranikhet, we had to go to Delhi to board a flight for 'namma Bengaluru'. We reached the airport about 3-4 hours prior to the departure. There were nine of us including my aunt, uncle and my friends' parents. We completed all the formalities, checked-in our luggage and were then waiting in the lounge area. After about half an hour, my friend's dad brought my attention to an announcement. The announcement went something like this: ''There is a black bag lying near the x-ray machine. Whomsoever's it is, please pick it up. This is the final call, we will remove the bag from the area for security reasons.'' I was very sure that my bag was checked in but since I was bored, I just went along with my cousin to see what the whole fuss was about. Fortunately, it turned out to be my bag. Unfortunately, there were three men guarding the bag with guns. I claimed the bag to be mine, started to pick it up, and at that point one of the burly men stopped me and said, "Saab ke paas chalo". I was then taken to a room where I was told that my unattended bag had caused a bomb scare in the Indira Gandhi International Airport. Apparently they had passed it through the x-ray machine thrice but could not confirm anything. They were on the verge of calling the Delhi Bomb Squad to check for any explosives. Sheepishly I apologised and told them that it was a genuine mistake. The matter was closed with a hundred rupee note (this was not a bribe- I was actually given a receipt which I seem to have misplaced now) and I was allowed to go home.

And thus came to an end a very peaceful holiday involving the army, lots of guns, security personnel, but thankfully no ka-BOOM!!!