The TimePass of India

"Are you on orkut?" A friend asked me.


It was the winter of 2003. I was in the first year of my Mechanical Engineering. I didnt know what or who orkut was and what do you have to do with it! Why does one have to be on orkut?


"To make friends." He said. "I am on orkut. You can add me there."


But weren't we already friends??!!


I dont know when I decided to join orkut. But I fell in love with it instaneously. So many of my friends whom I had left behind in school, in the scholarship classes I had taken, the people I had met at the science fairs I had visited -- all of them were there on orkut. You could see what junior college they went to, what they were currently studying, if they were single or not...


The best feature was that you could search for your friends by entering their names. Boys would enter the names of the girls who were popular in school. Maybe now they would have enough guts to talk to them.


Sometimes you typed in the name of the girl who you thought you were in love with back in school... you wanted to know what was on in her life... what college was she in.. was she still as pretty as she once was.... did she have a boyfriend...




But this post is NOT about that girl. This post is about another girl.


The girl whose name you never enter in the search box on orkut. The girl who never matered to you... The girl who you were mostly embarrassed to be seen talking to...


----------------


In the 7th standard, when you are 13 years old, the best thing that can happen to you is that a girl falls in love with you and declares that to the world. Not so much if that girl is --Suman.


I wont call Suman ugly, but there was something about her that.. well... wasnt pleasing enough... She wasnt as curvy as the other girls (which mattered) nor was she too smart like some others (which didnt matter). She was, well, kinda plump.


When you are 13, you have such frail parameters of beauty. I know I did.


I had changed schools in the 7th standard. So, I was the new kid in my new class. The guys wanted to know what my rank in my old school was. You know, if I was a threat to the rank order. Men can be so competitive! It all sounds so silly now.


The girls wanted to know if I had a girlfriend from my old school or maybe someone who stayed next door or something. I didnt really know how to differentiate between a girl who was a friend and a girl who was a girlfriend. But puberty had made an appearance already and the realization of the differentiation came soon after.


So, Suman liked me. And had called dibs on me or something. So all her friends were on a mission to be matchmakers. Girls like doing that. It's embarrassing to all parties involved.


Initially, it would be her friend -- Hina, who would come up to me and make small talk. It was important to be friends with me before she could make me an offer. Then it was all her other friends. I enjoyed the attention for what it was worth but realized it might be getting out of hand now. The funny thing is - Suman never even tried to initiate talk with me. She would sit in a corner and keep looking in my general direction during free periods, lunch hour and such.


My guy friends made sure that I was made fun of enough number of times. They would call her names and though I thought it was wrong call someone names, I figured if I wanted to be one of them, I better dive in with them.


News travels fast in school. Soon all the kids in all the divisions knew about Suman's attraction for me. Every time I passed a group of girls in the corridor there would be giggling! It drove me nuts!!


Suman tried talking to me in a way only school girls can. She got hold of me in the corridor after school.


"Hi."She said. I didnt answer. She continued, "So, I was wondering if I could have your English notebook. I was absent yesterday."


Now she could have asked the book from one of her girl friends. I mean who would want to read my handwriting? The teachers did, coz they had to, coz they got paid to read what we wrote.


I gave her the notebook. I wanted to get this over with. I felt people were watching us -- the more time I spend talking to her, the more news it would make.


She tried her best to talk to me. She would come to me during the games period and try to make small talk. I know how difficult it can be for a guy at the age 13 to talk to a girl he likes, and she was a girl, it must have been doubly difficult for her. But you arent exactly Mr.Sensitivity at 13. That is an age where your reputation matters more than the feelings of the people you are with.


"Hi, we are organizing Garba night this navratri. Would you like to give it a try?" -- Some girl from the 8th standard said. I had seen her before. In fact I thought she was kinda hot. But I have never been interested in dance and such. I have never been interested in anything I am not good at. Thats just how I am.


"no, thanks." I said.
"Suman is going to be there." She smiled.


Even 8th graders knew! I was pissed at all this. What was going on? My reputation was being tarnished here. Suman? I wouldn't go out with her in a million years. What does she think of herself!!


Then came the breaking point. She called home one day. Only, it wasnt any other day. It was Valentine's day! And my father picked up the call. It was an era when students in the 7th standard didnt own mobile phones.


"Hel..Hello" she said.
"Suman you cant call here. What do you want?"
"Uh.. I just.. just wanted to know if you will come to school tomorrow." She said.


What? she called to ask me if I will come to school tomorrow?
"Yes I will. Now I have to go do some homework." Saying that I banged down the phone.


My parents knew the date too well. My mother had smile on her face and I knew that a question would follow anytime. Before I could rush out of the room she asked -- "Who was it?"


"Just a friend. Had some doubt. Now it's solved."


It was far from solved.


The next day, we met after school in the corridor near the school library. Everybody had already left the building. We were the only ones in the corridor. She had a glittery pink packet in her hand. She looked at me and smiled. My expression remained unchanged.


"I wanted to give you this." She said.
"I dont want anything from you." I said bluntly.
"Please." She said. Her eyes pleaded to just have a look inside the packet.


I was angry at her. More than her, I was angry at myself. How could I be so shallow? But why did she have to call my home in the night on Valentine's day? What was wrong with her?


"No. I dont want to. And I want to clear out some stuff for you --" I was angry and my choice of words made sure I sent out the same message. But before I could say anything, she said--


"I love you."


I felt the insides of my gut heat up, i felt hot acidic fluid corrode my insides.


"Well I hate you. Do you get it? I hate you."


I said it. Not once but twice.


I walked out of there. I left her standing there all alone. I didnt even look back at her.


In a few days, the giggling stopped. Suman stopped staring at me in lunch hour.


She will get over it. I was sure. It was for the best.


------------------




We left school school after the 10th standard, a good three years after the 7th standard. So much had happened in those three years. Crushes. Quasi-love. Heart-break. We were now mature, wise 16 year olds or so we thought. The world was waiting for us.


On the last day of school, we dressed up in our formal best to bid our goodbyes. The boys dressed in formal shirts or suits while for most girls it was their first chance to wear a saree.


The girls normally cried as they said their goodbyes. Some of the guys did too. Well, I am not a cryer. If you ask me, I dont even remember the last time I cried. Not that I am proud of it.


Suman came up to me. She wore a white saree and a worried look.
"Can I have a picture with you?" She said. This was the first time we had spoken after that incident. "Please?"


I had turned her 'please' down once upon a time.


"I would love to." I said.


And I placed my hand across her shoulder. I looked at her and the big smile that had suddenly appeared on her face from nowhere. And we got our picture taken.


"Thanks. I will keep this picture with me." She said. "I hope we meet sometime in the future."


I am not sure, but I think I saw a tear in her eye.


It made a dent in me somewhere.


--------------------------


I have never said - I hate you - to anyone ever. And I hate myself for the single time that I said it. I wonder if I should have been kinder to her and looked what was in that packet - maybe a greeting card was in it, or maybe a poem... I could have read it, at least. But I didnt.


I have never searched for her on Orkut or Facebook. I dont know what she looks like now. I dont know what college she went to. I dont know if she has a boyfriend or if she is married. Maybe she even has children. I dont know.


But I dont wanna know all that. I just wanna remember her as she was in that picture. I just wanna tell myself that among all the pain and hurt I had caused her, once, just once, I was able to make her smile.

- Arshat Chaudhary


The girl you didnt search for...

Short story.

They lay on the terrace floor, watching the skies darken with rain-laden dark clouds. The Sun had been on a vacation since the last few days, the clouds had taken over.

"Why does it rain?" She asked, looking at the dark brown evening sky, which was darkening by the minute.
"You see, the south-west monsoon winds bring in water vapour from the Arabian Sea, it condenses.."
"You are such an engineer re," she cut him in between.

The thing with girls is, that they expect us to know when to be scientific and when to be romantic. He kept quiet, thinking what to say. The soft din of the vehicles on the road below filled up the silence. The problem with living in the city is, you never get to experience complete silence.

"He loves her," he says out of the blue.
"huh?"
"You asked me why it rains, didnt you? It rains coz he loves her."
"He?"

"The cloud. He loves the earth."
"Oh. But then, where was he till now? I mean, why didnt it rain in the summer?" she asks innocently.
"He was always there. He was here since the earth was here. In fact, the earth was made because of him. The earth gave us life, but the cloud gave her life. And for that, she loves him. At the end of monsoon he leaves her for the cycle of life to continue, that is why you dont find him here in the winter and the summer."
"Ah.. I see."

The wind starts blowing, starts playing with her hair. She tries to fight the wind, unsuccessfully.

"When the cloud comes to meet the earth, he roars with happiness. Hence the lightening. And when he reaches her, he showers her with love. Hence the rain."
"Hmm. I get it."

She keeps looking at the darkening clouds, which have now started roaring. Then she looks at him, into his eyes and says -
"You know what I love?"
"What?" He asks with a hoarse voice, a voice which is expectant.
She smiles mischievously.
"I love the smell of soil when it rains."

He relaxes again, knowing he is not going to hear his name in any sentence related to love yet.
"I love it too," he says. "But I love something else too," he says looking at her.

She avoids his gaze, tries to fill up the awkward silence with words...fails miserably.

"Why does he have to leave her?" She asks.
"Told you na, it's the cycle of life. That time spent without each other, strengthen their love for each other."
"I don't know. I don't want them to separate."She almost starts to cry.
"You would want rain all through the year?"
She remains quiet.
"Do you realise you will never be able to smell the first rains again? There might never be a first rain in the first place."

She keeps staring at the dark clouds which fill up the whole sky. The lightening flashes every now and then, illuminating her face, making her look prettier than she already is.

"Do you have to go then?" She asks in a voice that tells you shes having a tough time holding herself together.
"I am afraid I have to. I will be back before you know it."
"I will be waiting."

She places her head on his chest. He has the world. Her tears cant be held back. The skies crack up.
It starts to rain.



PS- I will be leaving Mumbai in 4 days to pursue my MBA.
It is pouring outside, as I write this.
Please listen to this song, as you read the post. It gives you a heady feeling. Why does it rain?

Scene 1:
Location: Nirmal Lifestyles mall, Cafe coffee Day
Timeline : Last year of college (2007)
Characters: Two cool college kids, Two weird office goers


Why are we alone?
We are not alone. We cant be alone if we are together.
Okay ass, I meant why dont we have girlfriends?
Oh, thats because the good ones chose the dorks
Yeah.. neckless, fat, geeky dorks
Hey! We can be neckless fat and geeky, if it gets us girls that is..
Well, we are already geeky..
I am not..
Yes you are..
Yeah I am.. I know..
So all we have to become is neckless and fat..
I dont think it is fair..
Even I dont think it is fair.. but what?
They show girls swooning over Hrithik Roshan on TV, but then they go and settle for dorks like these in real life. I mean, what happened to survival of the handsomest..
Yeah I know.. My mom says I look like Hrithik.
Dont take your mom too seriously..
Oh comeon.. I do!
No, you dont.. actually you do, only hes taller and more.. whats the word.. yeah.. awesome!
You sound like a girl right now..
I know, but you can definitely pass off as Uday Chopra..
Damn you..

Pointing to two office goers sitting at a table across the cafe.
Now look at those two guys there.. We look better than they do, dont we?
We sure do.. I mean we can beat them in the looks dept any day.
Yeah, look at them. Peter England office shirts, Arrow flat trousers and office handbag.
Looks more like a purse that handbag of theirs if you ask me..
They look as if they came with a tag - since 1929
Hehe.. good one.. And look at us, cool wrist band, Levi's jeans, Reebok shirts and i-pump shoes..
Hey when did you buy them shoes?
Monday.
And you didnt tell me?
Tell you? what are we? girls?
Oh yeah.. sorry. Are those guys waiting for someone?
Yeah.. I bet they have girlfriends too.
These guys? since 1929 guys? No ways!
I bet 100..
deal..
Just then 2 pretty girls entered the cafe and walked up to them. They could hear them.
"Shall we leave boys?", said the first one.
"We ll be late for the movie", said the other one.
The guys paid the bill and started moving out, with their respective girls.
See? See? Hail me as your king! Pay up you dumbass.
Damn you ass****
He removed Rs. 100 from his wallet and thrusted it onto his friend's palm.

He said the word "Damn" loud enough for one of the guys, who was now opening the door for his girl, to hear him. He looked back at the college kids and smiled. He pulled her close to him and whispered something in her ear. She looked back at the college kids and giggled. Then the four of them left.



Scene 2:
Location: Nirmal Lifestyles mall, Cafe coffee Day
Timeline : First year of the job (2008)
Characters: Two weird college kids, Two cool office goers

Hows work?
Cool. Hows yours?
Cool.
Hows everyone at home?
What? You never used to ask that!
Really? Hmm.
Got a promotion btw.
Hmm.. that means you pay for today's movie.
Damn you.
I paid the first installment of the car, did I tell you?
Hmm.. Your dad, didnt ask you to pay, did he?
No, but I thought I could pay half for him. That way it would be easier for him.
Hmm.. we are planning to buy a house too..
In mulund?
No re, its out of reach now. Maybe in Thane. Now that I make money too, my parents can afford it..
Man! We are paying installements, buying flats.. We are growing up!!!

Pointing to two college kids sitting at a table across the cafe.
Remember when we were like them?
Whats with those shoes and whats with the hairstyle these kids have nowadays?
Yeah.. and look at their jeans. One more of his size can fit into those!! And they think they look "cool"!
Hehehe.. weirdos..
Its 6:45.. Why do they always have to be this late..
Its evolutionary.. Its in the bible..
What the? The bible doesnt allow women to come late..
Arre it does! Even the first woman "Eve" came only after Adam got really bored.
Hehehe.. Your sense of humour has gone down the drain.
shut up dumbass..

Just then two pretty girls entered the cafe.
"Hello boys", one said.
"Are we late?", the other asked.
No babe.
"Lets leave, dont wanna miss the starting"


The guys paid the bill and started walking out when one of them overheard one of the college kid swearing at the other.
He looked back at the kids, the kid wearing a green nike shirt thrusted a 100 rupee note in the hands of the other kid. He smiled at them.

He held her hand and pulled her close to him. He whispered in her ear -
"You see those two guys sitting there. I think, they had a bet whether we had girlfriends or not. The guy in the green shirt lost."
"How can you be sure about the bet thing", she asked.
"Coz I have been there "

She looked at him amused. She looked back at the college kids and giggled. The four of them left.


________________________________________________

I tried to experiment with some stuff here. If you notice, there are around 6 characters in Scene 1 and 6 characters in Scene 2, two of them are common. So in all, there are like 10 characters. I have tried to make sense without naming even a single character.
Kindly let me know if this story makes sense of should I make it more understandable. A lot can happen over coffee : A twist

Last week I watched Outsourced on Star Movies. I just happened to arrive on the channel when the movie was just starting.

To be honest, I expected a Slumdog from Outsourced. Fortunately, I was wrong. In the first 15 minutes of the movie, there is a scene in which the central character Todd(the superb Josh Hamilton) is trying to catch a train running along the platform with his heavy suitcase. Another guy starts running along with him, picks up his suitcase, and helps Todd get in the train. Knowing the gora's idea(Danny and Co's idea actually) of India and its people I expected him to run away with the suitcase then and there. When he respectfully places the suitcase in the compartment running along the platform, I couldnt help feel ashamed of myself, that I thought like that about a fellow Indian. I also felt bad that I had so conveniently thought that all firangs were narrow-minded idiots.

I am not much of a movie person. My idea of heaven is a huge plasma TV with all sitcom titles available on a hard drive. But 15 mins into Outsourced, and I knew I had a movie on my hands.

The movie is hilarious. It is essentially a situational comedy. This movie is about Todd (whom the Indians call Mr.Toad) who gets an assignment of training his counterpart in India. How he first resists India and at last falls in love with her forms the plot. But its not the story but the characters, the screenplay and the brilliant dialogues which make it enjoyable.

Like this one -
Indian : What is your good name sir?
Todd(bewildered): Good?
Most Indians will get the joke. We say - "aapka shubh(good) naam kya hai?".We very conveniently convert the hindi into english, word by word!

Then there is this scene about holi, when Todd's Indian colleague asks him not to come out of his house...
Todd: But why?
Colleague: Because today is holi, sir!
Todd: Holy what?
Colleague: Only holi!! The festival of colours.
What follows after that is fun.. teenagers throwing water balloons at Todd and him throwing back a few of his own.

Outsourced does a marvellous job of staying away from cliches, characters are excellently sketched, its difficult to find caricatures in this movie.

There is fantastic scene where Asha(Ayesha Dharker), who plays a bpo agent, has to sell a product to an American.
American customer: I lost my job because of you.
Asha: Well, I cant do anything about it sir, but if you want I can give you the website of a company which has its customer service agents in the US and offers the same product.
Am customer: Well, would the price be the same?
Asha: No sir, it will be $212 more.
Am customer : What the heck, send me your product.

Man, it does sound very kiddie at first, but when you think about it, its so damn cool!

The problem with Slumdog Millionaire was that it treated India as a Third World country. I have no problems with that. We are that, accepted. But we are not only that! Theres is a lot more to this country than slums, beggars, people who scoop childrens eyes out, slumlords, slumlords who become real estate barons, bpo agents who leave their seat to dial Kaun Banega Crorepati's number.. I am sure there are people like that. But there is a small number of people like that.

In a country like India, even exceptions run into millions.

Maybe slumdog was a story of those millions but the way it projected India made it sound like there were a billion slumdogs in this country. Everyone who is reading this post in their college or in the comfort of their homes or in an internet cafe know thats not true.

A friend once asked me what place I would like to visit atleast once in my life...I said I wanted to visit Sweden. Now I know no more about Sweden than Danny Boyle knows about Mulund, but I really wanna visit that country. The reason being that I read real nice things about the place in the book - "Catch me if you can" by Frank Abagnale Jr. There are about 15 lines about Sweden in there, and you fall in love with the place.

You know one place that I was scared of? - Rio De Janeiro. I saw the movie Cidade de Deus which is about the mafia in Rio. It took Dhoom 2 to change my perception about the place.

Doesnt Outsourced have its own share of slums and slumdogs? Yes it does.
There is a scene in the first 30 mins of the movie where a slum kid steals Todd's cellphone. My sister and my mom, who were watching the movie, clucked their tongues feeling bad at the way a kid was shown stealing. But the kid returns the cellphone in the end, not only that he decorates it with coloured designs.

Todd falls in love with India, like most Indians do.. Even the ones who keep saying - "is desh ka kuch nahi ho sakta", "sab chalta hai", guys who travel in local trains during rush hour, executives who lose precious time stuck in traffic, a beggar at a traffic signal, a couple who cant hold hands coz there are too many people around, a student who applies for MS in the US, an Indian who currently stays in the US but still longs to return - everyone.. everyone.. once in their life, falls in love with this beautiful country.

And so does Todd.. When he gets called over to have lunch in the slum, when his manager brings special American food for him coz his stomach is upset due to all the Indian food, when the slumkid returns his decorated cellphone, when he falls in love with Asha - everytime..., he falls in love with India.

I hoped Slumdog wouldnt win the Oscar. But then it won. I have no problems with it winning the oscar, except this -
20 years down the line, my 15 year old son is gonna come to me and rave about how cool the 1997 Oscar winner Titanic is!!
"Hey Pop! Saw Titanic last night.. 1997 Oscar winner aint it?"
"Yeah, its really cool.. Its a classic"
"I wanna see the 2008 Oscar winner now- Slumdog Millionaire"
I was wondering what would I say - Would I ask him not to watch it coz the movie is a skewed depiction of us or Would I allow him to watch it coz a man needs to form his own opinions.
And what if I do allow and he comes to me asking me - "Pop! You lived in Mumbai right? India was such a Shithole!!"
I would want to tell him that, thats the way a group of smart asses in the West perceived us back then, but not everyone did. If you want to see India through the eyes of unbiased westerner, and dont mind the fact that a bunch of bozos found his view too unscandalous to give it any award - go watch Outsourced

SM will do to people what Cidade did to me. Thankfully Outsourced is around to change their perception.



"Outsourced" soup for the "slumdoged" soul!

Picture this - You are roaming around in a mall..In and out the overpriced showrooms... Shelf shopping through the Mens section..

Shelf shopping coz you are still in the last year of college and cant afford this stuff... You are going through the different types of shirts and jeans that are on the shelf..Denims are in, six pockets are out, or capris are they called?

And whats with the commando prints? What guy in the right state of mind would wear something like that.?! Just then a middleaged uncle with a paunch to show for walks by you wearing the same commando shirt.. Hmm... thts the kind of guy!!

You are browsing through the casuals section, then on to the Formals, then accessories and then you stand at the entrance of that section of the mall where thou haventh venturedth yetth - The ladies section.. You dare not enter.. There are women all around and there are clothes, all girlie clothes and there are a few men giving company to their respective ladies.. every third guy has a baby balanced precariously on his right arm..

You look at those men.. You knell down..God.. Please dont let me one of those men.. Please dont ever make me enter this section..ever..

Then you see men at the payment counter.. Paying for the shopping escapades of their girlfriends, wives or sisters..

You think to yourself, what kinda sucker buys from stores this overpriced!! These men into high paying jobs, loaded with money, pushing consumerism to the limit.. You think to yourself, When I start earning, I will not spend in such overpriced stores..

You see a guy with 3 bags at the counter.. He has a lady with him, shes going through the dresses in the bag... Theres a smile on her face which refuses to quit..

You look at the guy...You cant help feeling sorry for the guy.

He swipes his credit card.. turns back and looks at you looking at him.. and smiles..
That story..




One year hence, you have a job.. Amongst design software and hard core Engineering there is no time for shelf shopping.. You have decent salary and your bank account has started to smile..

The sister has to pursue a professional course and needs a few new dresses.. Now the sister does believe in my taste when it comes to apparel, this is one the very few things she gives me credit for..

So she decides to punch my smiling bank account in the face.. she took(read dragged) me to the costliest showroom in this part of the world..

We entered the mall.. We passed through the Mens section, casual wear then formal wear.. We were getting closer, then came the accessories section.. There I was standing at entrance of the section where men had their salaries drained... hours spent... credit cards maxed..

While I had a grave look on my face calculating how much this was gonna cost me, the sister was as excited as a kid in a amusement park!!

So wht are you looking for?
Party wear..!
What? You are getting into a Professional college.. You think theres gonna be time for parties?!
I just want this one dress..
Oh..ok..
For the rest of the formal ones we will come back again..
Whaaa?

My eyes started searching for discounts.. Where were all the discounts when you needed them?
I saw some % sign at a distance.. I was pulled by its magnetic presence to its direction.. 40% discount.. Cool.. Just what I needed.. Checked out some tops there.. Rs.1940.. Hmm.. 40% off on 1940, that is..er.. A pretty salesgirl stood there smiling..
"Sir, that is the discounted price.."


I lost my love for arithmetic after that.. I just stood there looking at salesgirl for 1 minute, then at the top for another minute, then looking at her again for one minute.. then she got bored of the routine and left..

The sister by that time had found 3 dresses she liked..She handed me the three dresses to hold while she shopped for more..

I thought u didnt like green..
Oh I meant emerald green.. this is bottle green..
I see..
Yeah..

The sister was getting deeper and deeper into the section. You see, the ladies section is pretty much like a city. On the outskirts of the city you get cheap (relatively) real estate.. But as you move deeper into the city, the real estate prices shoot up.. Similarly, the cost of apparels increases as you keep going deeper and deeper.. Then we arrived at the "core" area.. The Nariman point of the ladies section.. This section is usually occupied by 30 somethings businesswomen or iit-iim grads who earn enough to make grown men cry!

An hour later we had found around 5-6 dresses (some of which were from the "core" area) which she had to try on..I had three tops on my left hand, a maroon, peach and a black number.. On the right hand had I had a green, er I mean bottle green top, a pink one and a off-white one..

Then came the trying on the dresses.. You are allowed only 2 dresses inside the changing room...Here comes my part in the evening...the brother has to stand out with the rest of the 4 dresses and has to approve of the dresses he finds classy enough for his sister to wear..

So I am standing there outside the ladies changing room.. And getting those stares you get when you accidentally board a female compartment in the local train..!


I take this opportunity to go through the price tags.. All 4 digit price tags all of a sudden seemed less classy to me :P And yes, that included even the ones with "cheeky" prices like Rs.995.. I
mean even a 5th grader knows that trick..

After a gruesome half an hr of trying on the dresses, we zeroed in on one black number which I can safely say was the classiest of all dresses we had chosen..

Half an hour of alterations on the dress and we were ready to move on to the payment counter..
As the sister was busy adoring her dress, I was shelling out a few big Mahatmas..

I looked around I saw some college students looking at me.. Giving me that look, the look that I thought I had invented..

And I looked at the sister.. Still adoring her dress.. A smile adoring her face.. All grownup she was, all of 18 years, but I still see her as an 8 yr old who needs me to fetch things for her.. And all those mahatmas be damned, I would give them away for that smile.. And those college guys will know only when their sisters ask them to buy a dress for her... They will realise that its all worth it..

I swiped my credit card.. turned back and looked at the college guys looking at me.. and smiled..
That Story.. Shopping in the Ladies section...

I was at Pune last week.. Now like every true blue Mumbaikar, I have been brought up to look down at every city other than Mumbai..
I wasnt expecting anything special from Pune..
I was pleasantly surprised...


Some musings...

*There r more colleges on one street of Pune than all of Mumbai.


*The rickshawalas are allowed to joke.. Rs.800 for a 6km ride at 1 am? hahahahaha... so funny..

Another time another day..
Me: Jagtap dairy? kitna?
Rick: meter+half or return
Me: Nahi re.. itna paisa nahi hai
Rick: okay.. 90
Me:nahi 30(something I learnt from my bargainin pro female frds..)
Rick: kya sahab.. chalo aapke liye 60..
Me: nahi yaar 30(man!! i am good..)
Rick: okay 50..
Me: roz ana padta hai yaar.. 50 roz-roz bahut costly hai..
Rick: (shifting to may marathi) 20 rupayat tumcha kay jaanar..
Me:(sticking to matrubhasha hindi) nahi yaar.. bahut costly hai..
Rick: aacha baitho

In bold letters MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!

Btw, we got to be good friends at the end of the ride.. he told me what buses to take and what all places to visit in Pune.. I asked him if he was on orkut and what his name on his profile was but then he thought i was getting too personal.. But he did tell me that he had his Ricks pic on his profile.. I have been searching for it ever since..



*There are only two age groups in Pune less than 25 and more than 55...There is no middle aged uncles/aunties around here..You will not find anyone around 35-40 walking the streets on Pune..I dunno how they do it..But I gotta feeling that the Govt. secretly kidnaps guys who are more than 25 yrs and less than 55.. To me, it looks like a social experiment.. Someone's got a better theory?

*Darvin derived inspiration for his theory of "Survival of the fittest" from the the Pune traffic.. The driving skills possessed by Punekars would make a Andheri bred-SV road driving-foul mouthing-horn honking rickshaw driver envious.. Punekars drive like they are playing a PC game.. Its like they gain extra point for cutting lanes and overtaking on flyovers..
If you dont overtake someone from the wrong side in the first 3 mins of driving its considered a foul.. You are red carded and ejected from the game for 90 mins.. what? seriously!!!



*The girls here are pretty, or so you guess..coz all of them have scarves around their faces with only their eyes showing... A lil tid-bit- Men in Afghanistan can tell a burkha clad womans age and how beautiful she must be just by noticing the spring in her step..Infact there are stories about how these Afghani men caught burkha clad female Russian spies just by noticing their walk.. I have become pretty much the Afghan myself...

*There so many scarves sold here... Girls, you know!! they have like 7 diff scarves for 7 different days - (baby pink for Monday, green for Tuesday, turquoise for Wednesday etc.).. btw, turquoise is a female version of blue..
According to the last budget 07-08, the sale of scarves in Pune contributes 0.3% to the country's GDP.. Its the second biggest industry in Pune after IT..

*Koli was driving me around the city one day when this scarf clad girl picked up a race against us.. She beat us for the first half of the race, but the male chauvinists that we are we werent ready to accept defeat from a lady rider.. Koli revved up the engine and beat her to the Pune university(thts where she was going we figured out).. For the record, the girl had an Activa while we had a fully loaded 150cc Xtreme..

*Pune is one of the few places which has an ideal boy-girl ratio.. Apparently ever guy with a bike has a girl(scarf-clad ofcourse..) on the back seat.. In much anticipation I asked my frds if they had found someone special, they hadnt.. it turns out they didnt have bikes!! Two of them had cars though, but as it turns out, cars dont do the trick.. How do u spell l-o-s-e-r-s?

*The apartments that I stayed in Pune deserve a special mention.. I stayed near the IT park in the burbs.. Huge apartments they have.. I stay in a 3BHK here in mumbai but flats in Pune are wayyy bigger... and their balconies.. hugeee balconies(half the size of the my bedroom)..The living room is the size of Eden gardens.. You could actually play Test matches there..(one tappi out ofcourse)

*I cant do without mentioning the weather..The weather is pleasant..
There was this day when I went sight seeing, I walked around 7-8 kms that afternoon, and not a drop of sweat!!
It doesnt rain tht much, but the temperature drops a good 5 degrees every night...With balconies big enough for you to play golf in, the evening is the best time to sit out there and soak in the scenery..
Both the apartments that I stayed in during the visit were on the 7th floor and offered quite a view of the city.. One word - Beautiful.. Dont tell Mumbai, but this was the first time I thought of settling outside mumbai..



If I have to compare between Mumbai and Pune, I would say Mumbai is like a middleaged businesswoman..(It has to be a woman, a man wont wear the queen's necklace now, would he?) Shes well established, respected and powerful.. She has worked hard to get where she is now.. shes always busy..she never sleeps...shes enterprising.. shes colourful.. shes fantastic!

Pune on the other hand is a 15 yr old.. Shes fun loving.. Shes beautiful, just like most girls are when they are 15.. shes got a few pimples here and there, but they only add to her beauty.. Shes growing up.. shes busy, but not coz she has to attend business meetings, shes busy coz she has to meet her frds or go shopping or do other girlie stuff..

As different as they are, they both are special in their own way...For the first time I am finding it difficult to choose between Mumbai and some other city.. And I thought this day would never come..

Special thanks to the guys who had to bear my company: Harish, Amit, Hemant, Suru, Ambrish, Abhjit and Koli.. All of them SPCEites.. What camaraderie!
Special thanks to Rishikesh aka monu
Thank you for the memories.. A city called Pune..

If we resort to lawlessness, the only thing we can hope for is civil war, untold bloodshed, and the end of our dreams.

A Sikh protestor was shot at by one Ram Rahim Singh's bodyguard near Nirmal Lifestyles, Mulund Watch the video here




The outraged sikhs blocked roads and stopped local trains and buses in mulund..


I was at home that day receiving calls from friends asking me to stay inside. One of my friends was caught up at some shop near Mulund station. Mulund station had seen most of the rioting since morning..They were showing clips of men with swords ransacking the station... I couldnt get through her on her cell, a sms later, she called me, she sounded tense.. She told me that she was walking from the station to her house.. I asked her where she was and if I should come and pick her up.. But it seemed that no private vehicles were allowed to run through the streets, I had to get there on foot... The place where she was stranded was downhill, and I knew if I run fast enough, I will reach there pretty quick...

I started outta my house, I havent felt this unsafe within 100mts from my house ever in my life.. And I have been on the these streets as late as 3 am... I could only see police vans all around. There were very few private vehicles... Pulsars and Indicas and most of them had Sardars riding it... While I was running along, someone threw a heavy metal box in my direction.. It wasnt meant to hurt or anything, I think.. I looked around there were sardars walking along..It couldnt be them, they were too far away... I contemplated going back home.. And I would have, had it not been for a friend..

I kept walking, my eyes searching for her everywhere.. I saw her, actually she saw me first and waved at me.. She gave me a smile that I have gotten used to over the years.. As I walked her to her house, she said between sobs..

"I thought they were a peace loving community..."
"Why so? coz Karan Johar has them in his movies, laughing and joking?", I said..

She always had prejudices(A friend explained, that this case is more of a stereotype).. all of us do, but its been preprejudice for her..
But as we were walking I wondered why I hadnt been shocked at the fury unleashed by them.. Aint I more prejudiced than her? And in a worse way...

We reached her house, she said thanks and I looked at her, I had respect for her. She was a brave girl. She saw people go beserk.. She saw men brandishing swords and knives.. She saw them rioting.. And her she was trying to put up a brave face, I could make out that she had been crying.. I wonder if I would have enough guts to walk all the way from the station to here like she did..

As I walked back to my house, I wondered if there was such a thing as a peace loving community..

Gujratis and Tamil are a peace loving communities.. I have some Gujrati friends... I love their dhoklas and the importance of colour in their lives, their flamboyance... And I like the fact that they are a peace loving community.. But werent Gujratis involved in Gujrat riots?
I have many Tamil friends, some of them very close to my heart... I have always seen them as peace loving community.. But isnt LTTE a tamil terrorist organisation?
Maybe the illiterate arent peace loving then.. But then what about the AIIMS doctors who when on strike dont attend patients.. Isnt that equivalent to rioting, taking people's lives?

1 billion people living in India.. The worlds most densely populated country.. Jam packed trains and buses.. Encroached footpaths, system abused , blatant twisting of rules... Even after all this we are able to live in harmony.. I read somewhere, "if so many Germans, Italians or French lived in a country this big, there would be bloodshed... "

I dont think there is any other country more tolerant than India.. And considering the number of people who are packed here and the poverty, I dont think theres a country more peace loving than India..

So what goes wrong in times like these? What happens to Indian who usually says "Chalta hai" when he doesnt get a place to sit in the trains or when there is no footpath to walk on or when manholes are left open without covers...?

Indians only get angry when you mess with their beliefs.. Even the Mutiny of 1857 took place coz the British tried to mess with our beliefs.. And they were smart enough not to do that again in the next 100 years that they ruled India!

I dont think anyone supports rioting, not even the ones who participate in it, unless they are paid for it...Riot is their way to get heard, which ofcourse is wrong, but is timetested and the easiest way to get the concerned people to take notice... As we grow more as a country and get ourselves educated, we will refrain from rioting.. There are other ways to be heard... And these ways are definitely more peaceful and in the long run, more rewarding...

The single clenched fist lifted and ready,
Or the open hand held out and waiting.
Choose:
For we meet by one or the other. Mulund riots..

Mumbai aapko jeena sikhati hai... -Manoj Bajpai (An excerpt from an interview)

I hated travelling to college..Its a long 2 hour travel one-way(subject of another post). It starts with finding a rickshaw to Mulund station and ends with you getting all sweaty and covered with grime and dirt as you reach Andheri. And your day hasnt even started yet...

Now that I have cribbed enough, let me start on my story. This story is dated 26 July 2005

9:44am-I enter the classroom. 44 mins late for the 9 am lecture.
9:47-Imran enters the classroom. Of all the days I have come late, this man has always topped my record. Btw, Imran stays in Lokhandwala and it takes him 10mins to reach college
10:05- There's been a light drizzle all morning. By now it has started raining as it does in July..
12:00-Its been raining in the true Mumbaiya style for the past 2 hrs... Some guys in the class are thinking of cancelling the practicals at 2:00pm
12:05-Calls are made to the lecturer concerned, he turns down all requests of a cancellation.
1:00- Lunch break. Some guys get down to the ground floor to the canteen and find water gushing in slowly.
1:15- Word spreads. Franctic calls all around. Calls made to the lecturer. It seems he hasnt made it to college yet. Hes out sumwhere in Andheri W running errands in office time ofcourse. Welcome to the only Govt Engineering college in Mumbai.
2:10-No sign of the lecturer. Some guys start leaving. More calls made.
2:30- Lecturer calls some guys cell, only to say tht he wont be coming today. Precious 20 mins lost.
2:35-Koli, Chetan and I start what will be the most unforgetable journey of our lives.
We wade through knee deep water outside college, but tth is normal in the month of July. Its not raining now, just a light drizzle. We dont really understand the gravity of the situation.
3:07- We take the train to dadar.
3:27- The train moves smoothly. We reach dadar. No one has the slightest idea that the journey from here will make us change our outlook towards life. This journey will test our will to fight. This journey will show us whether we are strong enough.
3:33- Dadar central. Trains are running awfully late. A train arrives ever so slowly. You could see ppl hanging out from the doors.Its raining cats and dogs now, and the ones hanging out are wet to the bone... Trains dont run this full at 3 pm in the afternoon. Something was wrong here..
Chetan got into the train, me and koli tried gettin in, but couldnt make it in..
3:35- Call Chetan - "Abbe tu ghus gaya kya?" "Haan.. chod next train se aa ja.." "thik hai..chal bye"
3:44- We get into the next train. As it turns out, this will be the last train to move out of dadar station tht day. The train moves ever so slowly through Matunga, Sion.. you could actually hear the train cutting through 1 feet of water on the tracks. Then it comes to a halt at Kurla station.
4:20- Its been 15 mins since the local has been standing there. Locals dont stand for more than 15 secs at any station. Something was definitely wrong. Call Chetan- No network available. All networks down.
4:30- Koli and I discuss the chances of this train moving. Ofcourse the downpour has to stop, and once it does the train will get out of here and we will reach home. We were cursing ourselves for waiting for the lecturers call. We shud hav left by 12 noon itself.
5:30- we are still inside the train, we are wet and hungry and tired. I go out to the station to take a leak, when I come back, I see tht the water level is only a feet below the level of the platform. Its still raining and doesnt look like its gonna stop anytime soon. Then it dawns on me, this train aint going nowhere... There is no way I m gonna spend the night in the train.



5:35-
We decide tht we will get out from the west side of Kurla to the bus depot. From there we will take a Bus to mulund. We got out of the station only to find water everywhere. Almost 3 feet deep. Change of plan, we will get out from Kurla E and then walk to the Eastern express highway. "Highway nahi doobega! Wahan se bus sure milega" Koli reasoned..
5:40-
The situation aint too good on east side of the station either. But we aint left no choice.
We walk through the 3 feet deep gutter water, wading through plastic, pieces of cloth, chappal, polythene bags.. You could see many other ppl wading through the muddy waters. We formed a Human chain when the force of the waters was too much to navigate through.
We could see half submerged Hondas and Santros along the sidelines.



Most shops were shut down except a few grocery store where some locals were buying loaves of bread.
Guys in our human chain, were exchanging numbers, so that if anything happens to any of us, atleast our folks at home could be informed.
That sent shivers down my spine.I realised that something bad could actually happen to one of us...sumthing bad could happen to me..

We reached the highway. It was relatively empty.. there were more ppl than cars on the highway and there was no sign of a best bus.


We walked through Ghatkopar, Vikhroli to Kanjurmarg. Thats 20kms for you. All along you could see ppl walking. Some who were as old as 50 walking. Some one asked a uncle who seemed really tired as to where he was walking from. "Lower parel"..That did it for me, if he can walk, so can I.

Sumwhere in between I lost Umesh. I was all alone now. The street light were not working, at it was around 9pm now. Out of the three lanes, 2 were completely submerged. I could only see water everywhere. It was not easy to makeout where the highway ended and the side trenches began. I kept walking, I could sense I was nearing Mulund. I kept walking till I was within 5 kms of my home, but I had lost the will to walk... Just then a God sent Best bus came through, i jumped in.. The bus left me at Mulund station. Mulund, which I can safely say is one of the best planned suburbs in mumbai was underwater too.. It was impossible to differentitate between the tracks and the platform. But thankfully the lights were on! It felt good to see the yellow of sodium lamps.. I got a bus from the station to my home. I reached home at 11:30. I came in and lied down on the floor in the living room with the wet clothes still on!! I had been walking for the past 6hrs. I had covered more than 30kms on foot.. I was tired, hungry and angry. Angry at the BMC, the college, the lecturer, at myself..
It could have been worse though.
Chetan spent the night on the Vidyavihar platform.
Navin and Prasad slept in the corridors of a call centre near Ghatkopar
Some guys spent the night in the college.
Some slept in Best buses, some others in local trains...

944mm of rainfall in one day.
Rs. 450 crores worth of property damaged.
Atleast 1000 dead. Hundreds missing.

Dedicated to everyone who witnessed the mayhem. Dedicated to the people who put up a fight against nature to come out victorious. Dedicated to the 1000 mothers whose sons didnt return home that day... It rained that night:26 July

The name says it all! Its situated among one of the many boulevards that Mulund boasts of.. This street near my place is full of such shops which some small time traders have set up. There are kutchis, Shettys, Guptas and Yadavs among others who have made this street what it is today.. Among all these shops is Shaandar Hair cutting salon

I have been going there since I can remember.. My dad used to take me there.. I always hated my long locks being cut.. I dunno why, but it felt bad...very bad...like... like someone died.. Maybe it was coz of the tajis* you get the next day at school, or maybe its coz your teacher wanted you to cut your hair short and threatened to tie you a pony tail if you didnt.. Somehow not doing what the grownups want you to do always seemed cool to me (i still find it cool!) By tht logic, cutting your hair was so UNcool..

tajis*- the ritual(?) tht involves slapping the back of the head of the guy whos got a fresh cut. Kids usually stop tht once they get into the 5th grade..Well, most kids do..


So the point is tht my dad used to take me to Shaandar Hair cutting salon every 4-5th Sunday.. I had to come up with like really silly excuses for not having my locks cut and my dad had to come up with like really silly anecdotes to get my dark long locks cut- "You look like a monkey with your falling on your face like tht" (Little did he know tht a few years down the line someone with the very same credentials will rock Bollywood.. yeah SRK! )

I have no idea why we went to Shandaar.. Maybe coz it was nearest from home about 5 mins walk and we still took our kinetic..Yeah lazy we were!

So we would get into Mr.Yadav's(tht was his name if I rem correctly) salon. Mr.Yadav is this big paan chewing guy who has the mother of all beer bellies...His teeth were stained but tht didnt seem to embarass him coz he laughed heartily at any silly thing tht his "boys" said in their Bihari accent..

Shaandar cutting was a small place, you walked 6-7 steps inside and you would hit the wall & I am talking first grader steps. Once inside, it felt like a really cool place to be in with the blue coloured plastered walls,mirrors mirrors on the walls, hindi magzines like "sulekha" or something, radio playing songs from the 60s.. Now I, like any other self respecting rap loving, eminem worshiping fan didnt like those songs, but there is something about tht place, you wanna sing along Rajesh Khanna when he goes "mere sapno ki rani kab aayigi tu..chalii aaaa tuu chaliii aaaa..."

Tht place had a weird smell.. The smell of henna, V-John shaving cream, pan parag (or whtever tht is tht he used to chew), Raj ratan red coloured hair oil, pan parag (did i mention tht already?). And thn all these smells amalgamated together to give your olfactory lobe a high of a lifetime..

Mr. Yadav's modus operandi was simple.. Get the sicssors and get snapping.. "Sab Barik kar dena"("Cut it all short"), was all my dad had to say.. and Yadav uncle would dutifully cut my hair short, real short.. But thankfully my hair grew at a rapid pace and there I was again after 6 sundays!

Then I got into the 7th grade, the grade when suddenly your appearence becomes important coz of tht girl you been eyeing and she probably likes you for your cool locks.. You cut your hair and all tht remains of you is, well, uncool.. And they call us "shallow"!

I started going to Shaandar solo, I noticed he had taken dad's "Sab Barik kar dena" very seriously.. It was time I made a few modifications to this statement..
"Uncle, Kaan ke upar ke barik kar dena, baki lamba rakhna"(Cut the hair around the ears short, and dont touch the others..)
He didnt seem to like this new "kaan ke upar..." thingy. I got this feeling that he loved the "Sab barik kar dena" thing.. That maybe coz he got more freedom to snap his scissors tht way..

"Arre garmi ke din hai, barik karva lo"(Its summer time, u better get a short crop), Yadav uncle used to say mid-January!!!
He kept cuttin my hair the way he wanted, which was real short, and I didnt like it too much... I just kept waiting for a better salon to come up near my place.

I stopped going to Shandaar once I got into engg. Another place had come up near my house. This place had an AC, and it didnt smell, it had english mags, it had lesser mirrors...And yes, no pan parag. The guy who worked there was all cool and stuff with highlights in his hair and used to speak broken english. V-John cream was replaced by Gillette foam gel, Hair gel had taken the place of Raj-Ratan oil, cable TV instead of the radio... In one word, this place was COOL..



The other day, the place where I go usually, was closed and I needed a haircut, so I decided to go to Shaandar..
The place still smelt weird. And yes, there was paan parag around.

Mr.Yadav wrapped a white cloth around my collar

"Kaisa hai?", Mr. Yadav asked.
The mother of all beer bellies had become even bigger, like when you felt there can be no one bigger than "undertaker" and then "Khali" walks in.. The teeth were stainier than ever.. He looked old, half the hair had gone grey, he looked weary too. The condition of the salon wasnt too good either, it looked like a whitewash would help.. Sumhow I got the feeling tht business wasnt too good..

I was taken back by Mr.Yadav's "Kaisa hai?". For two reasons- First, he still remembered me! Its been 3 years since I have been here.. Second, he asked "Kaisa hai?" insted of "Kaise hain?"(which imparts more respect). But this guy knew me since I was 3 feet above the ground, so I guess it was ok..

"Theek hoon.."

"Aaj kal aate nahi aap"
I realised he shifted to a more respectful form of addressing. Sumhow I didnt like it very much. I have been used to being called "tu" by this guy and then all of a sudden he shifts to "aap". It makes you realise tht on the outside you are a grown man to the world.

"er..er.. Bahar rehta hoon aajkal"
How could I come up with a lie tht unconvincing..

"Sahab(refering to my dad) aate hain kabhi-kabhi "

"hmm.."

"Aap bhi aaya karo.."

"hmm..aaonga.."

"Ab toh dadhi banvane bhi aa sakte ho!!! HA HA HA HA"
Stained teeth still didnt embarass him

"hmm..aaonga.."

"Kaisa katun baal? Kaan ke upar ke barik kar deneka, baki lamba rakhne ka na?"

He still remembered how I wanted my hair!!



"Nahi uncle, Sab barik kar do....."

I still remembered how he wanted my hair!!






Update:(May 01)
There is this blog one of my schoolmate has, he has written bout a similar post on haircuts, and the way it is written is dramatically similar to mine.. Now I found it scary, see if it scares you too, it was written way back in Jan or something. Here is the link


Shaandar Hair Cutting Salon!

Last sunday I met some of my oldies. I call them my oldies coz i have known them for more than 9 years now...And as it goes with old friends, it was great fun...

Some musings
*Powai doesnt have half the outlets tht Nirmals does!
*Powai still is a lot of fun
*Its fun with your old friends even when you have nothing to talk about and nowhere to go...
* Your friends know you too well to see through you when u are lying..
*You can talk bout anything to them
Arshat: Some guys make me wanna be a girl (@#$#! did I say tht out loud?)
Harish: whaaa?
Sandy: ewww..
(Yeah! I had said tht out loud..)
Arshat: er..well George clooney and John Stamos...
and my German boss (shit! did i hav to say his name!!)
Sandy: ewww..
*Well maybe you cant talk bout everything with them

*The problem with ppl who know you inside out is tht they judge you before hearing you out..

*Its bloody cold here! Sunday was the coldest day in the last 45 yrs in the history of mumbai! (10.2deg C is the recorded temp in Santacruz..Powai is colder..In Mulund its snowing...I have a tendency to exaggarate)..Take out the wollens ppl!

*Its fun when there r two guys and a girl! Coz when I say sumthing stupid, trust Harish to come up with something equally foolish.. Makes me look a lot better

*If there is a single girl among two guys she ll get special attention..(Ah! genius!)

*Mochas is absurdly costly!
Sandy : I will have the "cookie crumble"
Arshat: tereko cost patah hai? Rs.95!! (I can be quite a chindi if i want too)
Harish: I hope you know, ur cookie is gonna be this big(his fingers denoting the size of a 5 rupee coin)
We being the smart ones called for the- "Con panna" for Rs.40! Nice choice we thought..

When we got our orders we found the "Con panna" is called so for a reason. You see, its a CON! The size of the cup was smaller than the cups which come with the Barbie friends set!



(My female friends hav passed me on this info..I havent even touched Barbie till date..er..well..maybe once or twice..)

Sandy got her cookie crumble, the size of cream on which resembled the hills tht overlooked Powai..
Bloody Mochas..
Just to add, we mowed down half the hills from Sandy cup...Lifes so fair..

*There are many firangs roaming around in Powai..With not many hotels around, I wonder where they come from..

*All my friends have topped their respective trades sometime or the other...For eg - Harish topped school..Sandy topped the univ last yr... In most parts of the world having such friends would classify me as a loser but I can safely say they are not as geeky as their portfolios sound..

*If there is a single girl among two guys she ll get special attention (Did I mention tht already?)

*No matter how much u like the guy and how much you miss each other, u cant hug at the end of the day
Arshat: akward hug or cool guy handshake?
Harish: cool guy handshake for sure!
Stangely enough ask a girl this and you get a stare tht will make sunny deol pee in his pants


Its been a great 9 years with you guys...We have been through good and bad times together.. We might not hav a lot of time for each other more so as we get involved further with our respective careers and stuff... But I just want you guys to know, phone calls or no phone calls, mails or no mails, we will remain friends forever...
I hope I be there when Harish gets married and stuff (and stuff? :P).. I hope to be there when Sandy has a daughter(I m sure u gonna have a daughter...)
And hope we be there after our retirement and then we talk about all the fun we had when we were 20 over a cup of...er..."Con Panna"?? :) 2 guys, a girl and "Con Panna"

We knocked out the daylights out of Pakistan to win the first ever T20 World cup...Cant find the words to express myself...the adrenaline is still flowing through my veins...My palms are hurting from all the clapping I have done in the last 2 hours...Not much blood going to my brain now...The noise of crackers is deafening here in Mulund...The crowd has gone berserk...There are kids on the street howling...though I hate so much noise nd howling, I just cant stop howling myself...


I ran the queue for the bus today while returning from office today so tht I wont lose the start of the match...Quite unlikely of me and others since recently the interest in cricket has decreased(there were a lot others who jumped the line). And what a match it has been...Some good bowling from Pakistani bowlers saw India scoring a mediocre score of 157. On on pitch tht was a belter anything less than 180 was gettable...
Pakistan got off to a flyer, lost its way in the middle overs and gave India the jitters in the final overs..Some good bowling from the Indians saw them through..

One thing tht you wud notice bout this side is tht it is Fearless... A good captain is the one who injects his personality into his team... Dhoni has done just tht!! Just makes me think if he is the captain tht India need...A young side whom no one gave a chance...today are the World Champions! Wonder when was the last time we looked tht good...2003 World Cup I guess...


Wonder what these two young men, the Pathan brothers must be thinking ... They must have led their team to victories in the gully matches tht they wud have played as kids...who wud hav thought they wud feature in the team tht wud win a world cup final!!!


Dhoni will tell his grandchildren tht he captained the side tht won the T20 World cup...Yuvraj would brag to his friends about his 6*6s while gulping down Patiala pegs when he gets 60 yrs old.. RP would narrate stories bout his line and length...

The best thing about this tournament is tht there is no single player responsible for this victory...Everyone has played a part somewhere...

Its was only a 20-20 tournament...But we really needed this cup...We really did...!!

India celebrate victory at the end of the ICC World Twenty20 final, Johannesburg, September 24, 2007

Dhoni and co - Thankyou for the memories....

India wins T20 world cup!!!