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!!!

Adventure n Stupidity- all in the same day

A couple of days back, a colleague at work asked me whether I wanted to try out 'Waterfall rappelling' i.e. climbing down a waterfall using a rope. An adventure group, 'Yuvazhep' was organising a day trip to Vihi waterfalls, about 100 kms from Mumbai. The idea seemed very exciting to me as I had never done anything like this before. I decided to give it a shot. So on a Sunday morning I woke up before four with blood shot eyes and caught a local train to reach the pick up point at Borivali. After innumerable delays and a bus ride of four hours, we finally reached our destination. The location was fantastic with two waterfalls in series and a hundred foot gap with rocks and water flowing between them. The first fall was fifteen feet tall and thirty feet wide and the second one, a hundred and twenty feet tall and twenty feet wide with water flowing with tremendous force due to the ongoing monsoon. Surrounding this amazing place was a forest with lush green trees, wet and cleaned up by the rains.

I had seen videos of people rappelling down cliffs, buildings, waterfalls, etc. and always thought that there was not much to it. I was completely mistaken. Once the safety harness was in place, I was on my own. I had to first go down a slope of forty feet and then a drop of eighty feet. I am extremely terrified of heights, but before starting my descent, I made a mental note to look down every once in a while and see the plummeting drop below. I wanted to feel the rush. Although, there is no risk in slipping as there is a safety harness in place, but there is a chance that you might get hurt when you hit the wall. With moss growing on the wall, it tends to be very slippery and is tough to keep your footing right. The entire descent was an out of the world experience with the water falling on my head while I was hanging by the rope, concentrating hard and trying my best not to slip. Midway, with about forty feet to go, I lost my bearings and was left suspended by the 10 mm nylon rope. At this point, I remember saying to myself, 'I don't want this experience to end, but at the same time I don't want to keep hanging'. When I tried looking up, my vision was blurred by the rain and the falling water. After a couple of moments I regained my balance and was off again. The entire journey took me less than fifteen minutes, but it was one of the most exhilarating experiences I have had.

It does not end there. Once everyone was finished, we headed back to civilisation. I got down at Thane, and took the train to go home. By the time I reached the station it was one in the morning. As the train was slowing down, I saw the platform exit pass by. Any fifth standard kid will tell you that you should never jump from a moving train, and even if you do, always jump in the direction of the train. My clothes were wet, I was cold, my mind had switched off and I just wanted to be home tucked inside my bed. It was then, that I jumped, not in the direction of the train but in the opposite one (towards the exit). In the air, which was probably for a second or two, I knew I had made an incredibly dumb decision. I did not have too much time to ponder over it as I tripped on landing and hit the concrete very hard. I am sure, people watching me were just taken aback by my sheer stupidity. As I lay motionless on the cold platform floor for a couple of minutes, two gentlemen came and tried to lift me and it was then that I felt a shooting pain in my shoulder. My knee and elbow were bruised, but most importantly I was not able to move my arm at that moment because of the impact. I somehow got up, reached home, swallowed a pain killer and slept. I went to the doctor the next day fearing a hair line fracture but was relieved to find out that it was just a 'soft tissue' injury and no bones were cracked or broken.

All in all, it was an unforgettable day with me getting hurt while climbing down a train and not a 120 footer waterfall.

Me? I'm not a racist!!!

A couple of years back, in the year 2008, Indian cricket was threatened by a huge controversy. The Sardar from Punjab, Harbhajan Singh, was accused of racially abusing Andrew Symmonds. The situation spiraled into a major issue when Symmonds claimed that the off spinner had called him a monkey, something which he considered a racial slur. After several meetings with the officials, the issue was settled when Sachin clarified that it was not monkey but 'maa ki', an abuse to one's mother.

Indians back home were flabbergasted with the situation for two reasons. They just could not comprehend how a word like monkey be considered derogatory and racist. Once, while passing some people on the roads of New Delhi, I could not help, but hear one of them saying, '' abe hum toh hamesha ek dusre ko bandar, kutta, aur kya kya nahi bulate hai, isme kya problem hai..aur Symmonds bhi ajeeb hai, jab Sachin ne bola ki woh ek gaali thi, toh gore ko koi problem hi nahi hui..'' There was another reason for the bewilderment of the Indian janta. How dare a gora call us a racist when we ourself have faced racism for several hundred years and continue to bear the flak even now? It seemed that the victim had become the culprit.

We Indians, sorry for the generalisation, feel outraged when a racist incident occurs against our 'brothers' in a far-off land. But we never realise that, in some sense we are even more racist (towards the same brothers) than the goras who ruled us for centuries.

Let me give you some examples. Ask a guy in Delhi, what is the first thing that comes to mind when he thinks of South India, and he will not even blink before saying 'garmi, madrasi, idli, sambar and dosa'. He will forget that he lives in the frying pan of our nation which burns at 45 degrees every summer, but he will not forget to connect South India with heat. Mind you, if the same question is asked to a Bangalorean about North India, it will elucidate an equally racist remark. One of my friends has been called a 'tribal who lives in the jungles of Andhra' because his place of birth is not heard by many people. Another has been laughed at, why quite simply because he hails from Bihar. I have to admit that all these remarks were always made in good humour and to the credit of my friends never taken in the wrong sense. I have handled a fair bit of 'racism' myself. It's quite expected considering I am a gujarati (having no idea of my family's 'native place'), who speaks marathi at home, lived in Bangalore, studied in Delhi and now working in Mumbai. I have been named Maddu (read as Madrasi), when I have actually been to Chennai only twice. On the other hand, I have also been called 'Dilli wala northie' and what not.

To be honest, I am guilty of laughing, poking fun at my friends, who come from different cultural and social backgrounds and propagating this racism. But, what is amazing is that we Indians do not bother so much about the racism within our own country; we will call one another names, make fun of each other's eating, dressing and speaking habits, but will turn red when some phirangi jeers at us. And at that point, you will hear a collective voice from all corners of the country saying 'teri *#@ ki'.

My First Pay Cheque

I have been working in a firm in Mumbai for about a month now. By the looks of it, I will be here for about 2 years or so, unless of course they have reasons to fire me. Well, let us hope that does not happen. I have always thought of myself as an independent person, taking my own decisions, doing whatever I feel like. But, that was restricted at times by the fact that I wasn't financially independent. It just did not feel right to blow one's parents money all the time. Now there is nothing to stop me. There is one thing; the size of my pay cheque.

A couple of days back I received my first salary. And rightly so, I was thrilled. My bank account, which had resembled Aryabhatta's discovery, was now like a healthy beating heart. As I write this blog, I look back on the one month that has passed and the amount of work I have put in to earn my bread.

I was told that the company I was joining would make me work like there was no tomorrow. I had prepared myself mentally for the struggle I would have to go through. I was ready to put in all those hours and burn the midnight oil. I should consider it my good fortune that, in the past month, I have not done even an iota of work. The only thing I have done so far sitting in my thousand pound chair ( by the way, my salary is less than that) is to watch videos on youtube, connect with my other job less friends and well, start writing this blog. I have sat on the balcony overlooking the Arabian Sea for hours together feeling the gush of wind go past my face. I have pained my fellow colleagues by constantly going over to their cabins and engaging them in mindless conversations. It has been a nice 'honeymoon period', as my envious colleagues call it. And as many would point out, after the honeymoon, it can only go down hill. Nonetheless, I shall cherish this lovely phase and feel lucky to have got the 'phokut ka paisa'.

One Night stand

I was enjoying my last long holidays when I got an email from the company I was going to join that I will be posted in Mumbai. It came as a shock as I had taken for granted that I would be in Delhi. Anyways, couple of things went through my head at that time. One of them, the insane amount of rent I would have to shell out of my meager salary. I had heard that finding a place of your own in Mumbai was tough, except for me of course, or so I thought.

Fast forwarding about a month or so - I was in Mumbai, the city that never sleeps embarking on an important journey, taking the first steps into the 'real' world. In the real world, there are no parents to provide you shelter in the night. I was on my own, well not exactly, I crashed at a friends place. I remember telling him that I can stay in any house and it won't be long before I'm gone. It has been 3 weeks running and there still seems no sign of me moving out.

To be honest I had my chance. After looking through houses of various size and shape, making innumerable calls to brokers, I finally found a place that would suit my needs. The problem was that my friends who were going to stay with me weren't around to see the place. I had to take a call on my friends' behalf, otherwise this 'wonderful' place would elude us. I convinced my friends over the phone. I still can't believe those guys trusted me. So there you go, we finally had a place to stay. We did not have to live out off a suitcase. There was a sense of relief amongst all three of us.

I announced to the world, that I had found a place to live in. The boy had become a man and had done something worldly for the first time. I congratulated myself and even gave myself a pat on the back. All we had to do now was to fulfill the legal requirements and sign an agreement. How tough could that be? When you have a businessman sitting on the other side of the table, it can get a little tricky. Unfazed, I invited one of my friends to 'our' new home. I showed him the place very proudly as if it was I who had built the place. That proud moment was to last for a very short time.

After spending the night, I went to the owner's house to ask him to make certain changes to the agreement. So what, if this was the first time I was doing this, I was going to stand my ground. The guy in his late forties was in no mood to listen. I sheepishly walked out, and told my friends what had happened. To my surprise, one of them was adamant and would not budge from the terms we wanted. Talking to him at length did not help sort out the issue. It was agreed upon that he would not stay with us and we should look for a new flat mate. You would find it surprising that in this city where one can find people everywhere, we could not find a third guy to stay with us.

I thought it would be polite to tell the owner that we were not interested to stay anymore. Unfortunately, this did not go down so well with him. To be honest, I wouldn't have cared a hoot about his opinion or feelings if it wasn't for our Rs 1.21 lakh that were in his bank account. The prospect of losing that kind of money before earning was not something that excited me. After an hour long conversation with the owner in which he accused me of insulting him, and god knows what, it was decided that he would keep a share of the above money. Thankfully, we got back the 1 lakh. I shall wait and hope to retrieve the remaining sum as well. It was an unforgettable experience and I had to be satisfied with a One Night Stand only.