The TimePass of India

Short Story (The story isnt that short, but is worth a read..)


Diwali always reminds me of this incident..

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The good thing bout 6th grade is that studies are free of any distractions..You are not yet into girls or if u are a geek like me, you are not much into sports either... You only have to concentrate all your energies towards scoring well.. And thankfully even the people around you are pretty much intrested in that.. Except a few ofcourse..

Narayan Gaikwad.. The most notorious of all 6th graders this part of the world has seen..

He was the most known face of the 6th grade.. Every teacher, every peon knew him..
The most disliked guy in all 4 divisions of 6th std.
He was mischievious, a true prankster. He was the big daddy of all naughty kids, he had earned the title from proving himself time and again - Like the time he burst crackers in the toilet.. No big deal actually a lotta mischievious kids do that, but in this case the teacher was in the toilet!! Heh heh.. ahem..

I hear he was suspended from the school for 2 weeks(Narayan, not the teacher).. And the teacher didnt enter the school toilet for 2 months..

Narayan was short, and had a hefty build.. He could easily pass off as a 15 yr old.. He never combed his hair, the last time he did was back in 1992. He had a dark complexion, not a natural one - but the one that comes from years of playing cricket in the afternoon Sun.

Narayan kinda held the record for the most punishments endured every season... Only once
during the 5th grade did Karan Mehta(the second most notorious kid this part of the world had seen) came close..
15 kneel-downs to 14 kneeldowns..
But by the end of the semester however, Narayan had a comfortable 27-22 lead..

So all in all, Narayan was the kid your parents warned bout..!

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Our class teacher that year was Miss Daisy... she was just out of her B.Ed college, and was full of bright new ideas on how to make the system better for "weaker" students. One idea was to make them share the bench with a smarter,brighter, hard working student.

I dont know if I was smart, bright, hard working but I was among the decent scorers of the class. This decency made Narayan Gaikwad my bench-mate!

Guys like me dont gel well with Narayan types. Narayan was mischeivious, shabby and poor.. Karan Mehta atleast had the latest video games which he did let us play with..His dad was Harshad Mehta's distant cousin we heard. Narayan's dad on the other hand was into security business, an euphemism for the word - watchman..

During lectures, Narayan, now my benchmate, would crack jokes which would frustate me, I was here to learn, what did this dumbo know..Maybe he will end up like his father.. But I dont wanna spend the rest of my life saluting people as they entered the building..

I asked Miss Daisy to change my partner, but she was adamant.. She had, based on our report cards, classified us into two groups and made the weaker kids sit with the better ones and according to her, it was working!! Sadly for me, it wasnt!

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It had been 4 months of being bench mates with Narayan and though we werent like the best friends, we had started to get along a bit.

My least favourite period in the 6th grade was the PT(Physical training) period
We used to play cricket in that period. Since there were more than 22 boys in the class, the two teams had to be picked.... I never got picked in the team. I used to hate PT.
Narayan used to love PT.. Infact, that was the only period he liked.. He was the cricket captain simply, coz, well, he was the best cricketer our school had known. .


The selection procedure was the worst part, Karan and Narayan were always the captains.(The best players got to be captains by default) They selected the team. A group of guys always surrounded them, just so as to get picked first. I stood outside the group coz I knew they wont pick me.

Narayan won the toss. "I take him."(pointing at me). Karan eyes grew as big as saucers and so did everyone elses! Was he nuts?! I suck at this game! He picked me!

I think that did it.. I started liking him after that, not wholly though. I still had my reservations.. He never brought any tiffin, he used to utilise those 20 mins of lunch break to play cricket! I offered him my lunch, he offered me to play with him, neither of us accepted others offer..



Narayan was the youngest of 4 siblings and lived in a chawl.. He told me that himself. Diwali was the only time he got gifts. Like last Diwali his dad had gifted him a Season ball.. But he never played with it, coz none of the guys in the chawl had a season bat. The year before that, his dad's friend got him new a digital watch from Dubai.. it wasnt exactly new, he had used it for 1 year before "gifting" it. I looked at that watch. The dial shone against his dark, sunburnt forearms.

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The term was ending in a week, and diwali vacations were about to begin.
"Bought any firecrackers for Diwali?", I asked.
"Not yet, but I love bursting crackers, the big ones bey.. not the Taj Mahal kinds. I burst one in my chawl everyday of Diwali at 4 in the morning! Its so much fun.. he haw haw.."
"Heh heh.. Good."(This guys such a chatterbox, and such a pain to the neighbours I thought)
"5? But they always came in boxes of 10.."
"Yeah.. they sell it loose"
"What other crackers do you buy?"
"Uh.. thats all.."

Thats all? 5 sutli bombs? I felt bad I had asked the last question... I think it didnt strike me that some kids celebrate Diwali only with so many crackers...

And all of a sudden it all seemed justified.. The pranks, bursting crackers in toilets and in the chawl at 4 am... The youngest in the family, always left wanting for attention. All he wanted is to have the maximum fun out of the limited resources he had...

Any 12 year old kid who gets only 5 crackers to burst in Diwali has every right to blow them up when he wants to.. 4 am, 5am, 6 am.. He has every right to blow them up in their face.. And no one should say anything bout it..
Narayan looked at my face.. I tried hard not to let the disappointment show.. but it did..
To get rid of the embarrasment(mine, not his) he said..

"Oh.. Oh.. But I am gonna buy sumthing else too.."
Saying this, he removed a piece of paper cutting from his bag. It was an advertisement for an Omega.
"You are buying an Omega watch?"
It costed Rs.3000, a lotta money in those days.
"Nahi baba.. The band.. watchband.. Duplicate.. But looks original. I ll show you, its available in the shop across the street."
Again, I felt silly I had asked the last question..

I looked at his watchband, the digital watch his uncle got from Dubai, the tin coating had chipped off in several places, rust showed where there was once glossy metal coat..


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That evening he took me to that 4X4 shop. The shopkeeper reluctantly took out the watch band, implying that Narayan had been here many times to ask boutt he band.
"Rs. 30.. mangta hai kya? Baar baar idhar nahi aaneka"
We left sheepishly.. I meant I did.. To Narayan, the shopkeepers attitude didnt make any difference. He was too absorbed in thoughts of how the shiny metal wud look on his wrist..



It was the last day of school before the vacations began. The spirits were high.. Half of the teachers had taken the day off so that their vacations could begin early..
We had bout 5-6 periods free..

In the second last period, Karan and Narayan began to have a chalk fight. These guys collected chalk pieces from the staffroom so that they can have their very own World WarIII. Our bench was in the 3rd row from the door while Karan's bench was the 1st bench on the 1st row from the door. In other words it was right next to the door.
Karans "missile" hit me, and I got involved in this fiesta..
Narayan-Arshat v/s Karan Mehta..
Chalks flying everywhere. I got better with every throw. One hit Karan on his head, the second in his belly and the third,.. into Karta Miss' eye!

Karta Miss was our Vice-Principal, it seems our class was making a lotta noise and she had come just to check on us. And just as she was coming in, my chalk missile was into the trajectory and it had hit her in the right eye...

She was the most feared women in our school, or for that matter, in the world.. She was a cross between a bull and a wolf(or so the legend goes). She looked like a bull and wolf part, i ll tell you later... The chalk that I had hurled had hit her right eye. It gave the word - bullseye a whole new meaning.. Her eyes turned red, but then I couldnt make out if it was coz of the chalk-missile, coz they were always red!

The class stunned into silence.. Narayan still had a chalk in his hand, the last one in my hand had already found its target.

"YOU! COME HERE!", she screamed pointing towards Narayan with one hand and holding her right eye with the other...
Narayan got out of his seat and started to walk towards her..
Now the wolf part - She had claws like wolves do, with which she used to pinch the ears of her victims..

She grabbed him by his right ear and started dragging him out of the class..

"But Miss..", I said
"You stay OUT of THIS", she screamed..

She thought it must have been Narayan.. But Narayan knew it was my chalk that hit her. Karan knew that too and so did the whole class.. Narayan was a pro in chalk fight, its me whose aim could be this bad. But Narayan didnt say a word..

Narayan was made to wait in her office even after the school left. I waited for him outside the school gates.

That October night, I waited for him outside the school gates. It was only 6 o clock but winter had set in, and it seemed like it was 7 in the evening. I waited for him there for almost an hour after which he came out of the gates.

His right ear still had shades or red and a few weird shades of purple. He was made to kneeldown for 2 hours outside her cabin, his wobly walk testimony to that..He had been hit with a wooden scale on his shin.. But he didnt utter a word bout me..

Maybe he thought what would it do to my reputation among the teachers or what Miss Daisy would think bout me - a decent, bright, hard working boy.. hitting the vice-principal in the eye.. or maybe he just did it coz he saw me as his friend...

Thats what friends do, stand up for each other.. They are brothers in arms, so what if they belong to different backgrounds and have different grades on their report cards, each one of them, in their own way, completes the other..

That Diwali, I bought him that shiny watch band from the same shop across the street from the 30 rupees I had saved for myself...

I thought, a guy who would do that for a friend..., deserves.... a shiny watch....

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Happy Diwali everyone.. The shiny watch

This is not a Political blog and neither does it aspire to be one.. I usually write bout things that affect my life or of those close to me in some way. If Politics turns you off, please dont read this post, but if you are remotely interested, go ahead!

"Akkra rupaye zaale", said the conductor while punching the ticket
"matlab..? hindi mein boliye na..kitne rupaye hue?", the man(most probably from up) asked while accepting the ticket..
"marathi yet nahi kay? mag ja na parat bihar la" (Dont know marathi? Then go back to Bihar)

I was travelling with a few of my office colleagues in a state transport bus..Everyone in the bus gave the man a dirty look, some even echoed the conductors sentiment in hindi so that it was clear to that him that he was not welcome in this part of the world! I looked at my colleagues, it seemed that they supported the conductor instead of feeling sorry for that guy...and thats what this post is all about..


I have these 2 friends who close to me, both of them are non-marathis(and NOT non-maharastrians, coz everyone whos born and brought up here is a maharashtrian). Lets call them Deejay and Sally.. Both of them did their schooling from a community school, needless to say they were protected and identified with the culture there.. When they shifted to a bigger college, they had their own problems getting used to the culture.. Deejay complained that he felt left out when even in a group everyone started talking in marathi. Sally was frustrated that even the office staff talked to everyone in marathi..(and looked down on the people who didnt know their language)

The irony here is that she is a supporter of the Thackrey 'Raj'.. influenced by his ideology of kicking the "outsiders" back to where they came from, in this case UP or Bihar..
"But they are taxi drivers, carpenters, construction workers! How can we ask them to leave?", I reason.
"So what, I am sure we have enough people here to do those jobs"- Sally retorts..

I say - why not ask the south Indians to leave too? And the Gujratis, the Marwaris, why should they stay?

I am sure we have enough educated youth here to do the high end jobs that South Indians are involved in.. We dont want Marwaris and Gujratis coz we have enough of our Marathi businessmen to take care of all the businesses.. We dont want Punjabis in here coz we have enough marathi people who can run hotels and auto maintainance garages... All of you, go back to your respective states!!

The chances are, if you belong to one of the said communities, you would wanna scratch my eyes out...

And only I know how amazingly stupid and increasingly unconvincing I sounded when I said the those things..

Just like these communities play an important part in the functioning of the city, so do guys from the northern states.. Just like you go to a Punjabi restaurant for the best Chole bathure, you go to a bihari carpenter to get the best deal for your sofa.

But that said, it should be noted that its not acceptable to come to the city and live under a pipeline. These kinda people(and not any specific community) put a lotta pressure on the already strained city. Its these freeloaders that should be kept out of the city.



Time to resurrect the images of my friends..

Why do they hate the UP-Biharis? Its not that they have to compete against them for jobs or anything! Nor do they have to interact with them on a day to day basis.. so what makes them mad?
Its the freeloaders!! Its the people who think its okay for 7 guys to live in a 10X10 feet shanty in Dharavi..But Dharavi or for that matter any slum town in Mumbai has a quite a mix.. There are Gujratis and Punjabis, Christians and Muslims, marathis and south indians.. So why are Deejay and Sally mad at the northerners only? - Well, thats coz Raj wants them to! We do what we are told to.. More so when we are frustrated and want change bad. I dont blame them.. Crowded trains, bad roads, encroached footpaths do that to people... seeing their tax money not being utilised properly, their money used to provide electricity and water to the slums.. it sucks! Its similar to the sentiment people in the US show towards people who live off social security..

Now to the big question- Why is Raj mad at the northerners only?!

Well, a quick scan through Shiv Sena's history shows that through different time frames they have been mad at different people.. First it were the Gujratis (because they controlled most businesses and not the "sons of the soil"), then in the 80s the South Indians (coz they got the best jobs and not the "sons of the soil" ) and now for the last two decades, its been northerners..

The reason why most people dont know bout the 70s and the 80s is coz the "tigers" back then were "cubs" whom the congress bred to keep the marathi vote from going to the communist CPI. But then the cubs grew to be tigers and joined the saffron bandwagon to beat congress at its own game. Once in power in the 90s, the sena guys have added "value" by renaming every 3rd street to Chatrapatti Shivaji Maharaj and city has been rechristened Mumbai(which I support, btw)

Raj, who must have been in his late teens back in the early 90s, saw how his uncle worked up his charm. And now, his time has come to do what the Thackreys do best - implement the "us against them" doctrine. Then it doesnt matter who "them" is.. Afterall, this is tried and tested formula that has worked for ages.. Hitler used the same tactics...In that case, "them" were the Jews(and the rest of the world in general). Imagine less than 4 crore men ready to die for their leader and for a unbelievable dream of ruling the world! ... Some brainwash that must have been!!!

This tactic is super successful in the short term since it works for all classes who are on this side, but it does not help much in the long run... it brings a section of the society closer, at the same time, letting other sections drift away...

PS 1:- Raj is a great orator. Hes pretty charismatic. He appeals to the masses as well as the educated classes. Who knows? He might make a great leader someday.. When he does, he will unite the state, but in the bargain, end up dividing the nation..

PS2:- Deejay is still getting a hang of the language, but is comfortable with the idea of speaking the language. Sally has worked hard on the language and now, speaks excellent marathi.. The clerks at her college are proud. Her work gets done faster at all govt. offices simply coz she tries speaking the their language... Is that surprising? Nope! Its just human nature... Thackrey "Raj"

The tough thing bout growing up is that the feeling comes rushing.. It gives you no time react... Like when one of your male friends is off to get married.
Its different from your female friends getting married, with them you can always reason with yourself that in certain communities girls get married early and girls usually get married off before guys and maybe its not yet time to growup for you.. But once your guy friends start getting married you know you are growing up!
One of my closest friends is getting engaged in a few days, and I cant help feeling that we are growing up, big time..

I remember our engineering days.. He came across as studious to me, but in due course I realised that he never studies, hes just plain gifted..

He is the brand ambassador for gujjus in mumbai.. He actually picks up clothes from Fashion street.. And all the tacky ones - Tshirts in colour of red orange and yellow!

His quick wit is legend.. and so is his tiffin.. All those wafers, theplas, samosas his mom used to pack in for him..yumm.. I would like to take this opportunity to thank Aunty.. The reason why ur son isnt round and fat is coz I used to eat half of his tiffin! burp!
He had half the kitchen packed in his tiffin box. He even brought spoons, knives and forks to eat with.. And he always brought something for dessert.. The dessert, unfortunately, was never shared..

Great times those were.. I remember how we broke rules in our own inconspicuous way.. How "saale" was our preferred nomenclature for each other inspite of the choicest Indian gaalis that Engineering offers.. How the assignments were submitted always late and how we had decided what all days to bunk college to(the days no practicals were scheduled!).. How we attended very few lectures but enuf to not be black listed. How we worked hard for that disticntion aggeregate, which came late but came with a bang.. How we played multiplayer Explode arena on our bluetooth cellfones during the lecture and how we still crib about who owes how much money to whom!

I still find it difficult to believe that this guy is actually getting engaged!


Heres the chat we had a few days ago..
Now he has announced his engagement to very few guys, mostly close friends and family, so I have changed a few details bout him in the post.. Maybe after he officially announces it, we can have a more colourful post.. ;)
Lets call him MunnaBhai(To protect his identity baba!) and lets call me er.. Arshat(I cant hide my identity on my blog now, can i?!)


Arshat: Kaisa hai saale?
(Note that I start off with the "word" )
MunnaBhai: Thik hoon..Aur bol, kya chalu hai?
(Note that he doesnt ask me how am i doing... he was never a fan of the obvious..)
A: Kya bolu bey.. chalu hai..
MB: Abbe, I wanted to tell you this - I am committed..
A: oh..I see.. but committed to wht? to ur studies? college?
MB: Saleee.. commited to a girl na!
(Note the triple "eee" at the end.. this is used for greater poetic effect)
A: Kya baat kar raha hai? If this is a joke, I will kick u in the butt and a lot of other places..
MB: Abee seriously!
A: Kya? how? when?
MB: Arre 3 weeks ago..
A: Aur tu mujhe ab bata raha hai?
MB: abbe yaar..It still hasnt sinked in yet..
A: And y dont u have a committed sign on your orkut profile?
MB: Wohi toh.. It still hasnt sinked in..
A: Obviously na.. who thought a girl, that too an alive one could like you!
MB: Saaleee..
A: So when did you do this?
MB: I asked her 2 months ago.. She said "yes" 3 weeks ago..
A: Hmm.. Cant blame her, other girls would have taken a lot more time to say yes to you! and who knows if they would say yes in the first place! :P
MB: Saaleee...
A: Shes a gujju too?
MB: Yeah.. my caste..
A: She hot?
MB: Saaleee...
A: Tere mein itna guts kab se aya saale.. proposed and all!
MB: Dunno re.. just aa gaya..
A: What does she do..?
MB: Arre our jodi is like your parents..
(Note the word "jodi".. Typical of him)
A: huh? As far as I know none of them are gujju!
MB: Abbe, I mean shes a doctor too..
A: Wow!! You got yourself a doc!! Man I am impressed..
Btw, Is she hot?
MB: Saaleee... Shes gonna be your bhabhi..
A: Not untill the next few years..!Atleast 1-2 saal bad shaadi karega na..
MB: Haan re.. once i settle down, job and stuff..
A: Man.. I am really happy for you mate..
MB: Chup bey...You sound like a girl..
A: Do I? hmm.. but cant help it mate.. who could have thought a guy with your intelligence would end up with a doctor..!
MB: saaleee...

There was a lotta truth in that last line.. No, not the intelligence part.. He is very intelligent and has a super memory.. He can byheart 14 pages of a VB program, without actually knowing the head and tail of VB(Visual basic, baba). But in the 4 years that I have known him, I never thought hes the kind who can fall in love with someone, and more astonishingly ask her to spend the rest of her life with him.. I really thought Aunty will have to do it for him..
Hehehe.. I just imagined Aunty say that to a girl - "Jinal beta, tamme maro dikro ne saath apne bakine life spend karu cho?"(Man my gujju sucks!) bwahahahaha... tht IS funny!

A: So, you are ready to spend the rest of your life with her..?
MB: yes.. Thats why i asked her..
A: You are in love?
MB: I think so..
A: How do you knw?
MB: Saaleee, tu toh Karan Johar type questions pooch raha hai..!!! Close your eyes and if you see her face, then you are in love with her! heh heh ..
A: hhehehehehehe.. Kya paka raha hai saaleee..
MB: I dont know re, you feel like wanting to be with each other and talk, u knw..
A: Just talk?
MB: Saalee.. Gutter brain...
A: Abbe nahi re, I was asking if thats enough to know that you are in love..
MB: Arre you want to be with each other all the time.. I call her whenever I get time and so does she!
A: wow! Its been a month since you called me..
MB: Well, I would if you would spend the rest of your life with me... :P
A: Yeah.. dream on! hehehehe...
MB: heh heh..lol..
A: So thats all you wanna do? Talk and stuff...
MB: Yeah! We talk a lot.. mera last month ka bill 1300 aya..
A: Saale gujju.. Baniya jaisi baat mat kar..
MB: heh heh.. I was just giving you an estimate..
A: hmm.. Can I look her up on orkut?
MB: Saale.. dont even dare do that..
A: Is she hot?
MB: saaleee...
A: Man! You already sound like you are her husband..
MB: Hehe.. I do.. I know.. I guess I like her too much then..
A: Hmm.. She must be a nice girl.. And you know what, I will be her fav among all your friends..
MB: I am sure you will be..
A: hmm..
MB: hmm..
A: chal then..Its 2 am... I should get going..
MB: Yeah.. bye
A: Just one last thing..
MB: Yeah?
A: Is she hot?
MB: Saaleeeeeeeeee...
Of growing up, getting married and saaleeee....

On a rainy 15 June morning, you know, when the school reopens, he was rushing off to school.. And he thought this isnt love!

Summer of 2001.. Taking it to heart...

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...

Update: This blog is the winner of The Chronicwriter Best Blog of the Year award 2008



Short story

I dont like waking up early..Not one bit...Just like Obama doesnt like Osama inspite of having such similar sounding names..
I dont like early morning calls on my cell.. Not even on my birthday.. Well 8 in the morning is not exactly early morning, but what the heck!
Anyone who has been my friend knows this.. All my bday wishes start pouring in only after 10 am..

We gonna have a party..turn the music up..
lets get it started..go ahead n move your butt..

I hate my ringtone.. I mean Eminem's Shake that is good all day long, but early morning even he sucks.. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the caller id.. I looked at the watch.. 8 am in the morning..Who could be calling me at this unearthly hour..

Raka calling..







That sent my thoughts running..
Raka is the name I gave to Rakesh. Rakesh was in my college.. I hated him the first day I met him.. He was very in-your-face.. too bubbly if you may call a guy that.. His youthfulness pissed me off.. He would always be chirpy, even in the mornings...every 9am lecture he and the professor would be the only two guys awake in the classroom.. I soo hate early mornings.. More than that I hate morning people

We had different groups, his group was the nerdy one, mine was the influential one..I guess we became friends when my group had a fight with his group.. Like most fights I have no idea of the reason why we were fighting.. It wasnt like a fist fight, but I almost punched him in the face..

He was quite a character this guy Rakesh.. At 6'2" he was the only guy taller than me in the group.. He was what girls like to call tall, dark and handsome..He had this devilish smile which apparently was cute to girls..He was quite the smooth talker and would have girls falling for him wherever he went..the lucky devil.. Hence the name Raka.. Rakesh is too somber for such a character..

There were times when I was jealous of him sure, even after we became best friends.. but thankfully he went after the girls who I considered outta my league.. There was this girl who both of us liked.. When he got to know that he stepped aside.. He actually helped me write poetry (since I am emotionally retarded) for her. I consulted him bout what gifts a girl likes to receive and stuff.. I wanted to gift her an Xbox.. Raka suggested a pair of earrings..(yeah.. tht sounds better)

He had a heart of gold.. He would do anything for a friend.. Hes the one you want to be around if you get in deep shit in life ever...Raka was always up for some masti.. He did spend a small fortune on his friends everytime someone from our group topped an exam or something..Rich dad he must have I thought..lucky devil saala..

There were 6 guys and 3 girls in our group.. He knew each of our birthdays byheart. He was the first to wish me birthday every year, year after year.... Used to wake me up at 8 in the morning on my bday.. devil saala..

"Why do u have to wish me tht early..??"
"Cant wait yaar..Its like a habit..I gotta be the first one to wish you.."
"You have to change tht habit mate.."
"You know wht they say, old habits die hard.. Some habits dont change even after you go.."
"Go where? to the loo?"
"Yeah..... idiot...."


He was also the first to ask for bday treats.. I dont know how he remembered all those dates.. Even today if you ask me Rakesh's bday, I wont be too sure.. I know its in June or was it July? Btw, the girls got a return bday present from him, the guys didnt.. devil salaa..

Around the 3rd year of college, I noticed he was gaining weight..not the kind you gain on the holiday.. He was losing hair too.. He used to miss a lot of classes..
He seemed sick.. and it seemed chronic.. I did confront him.. I wanted to know what was wrong with him and why was he not attending the lectures...But then he would flash a smile and say something hilariously stupid and that would seal the topic for then..

Around the 6th semester he stopped coming to college all together..He wouldnt answer my calls, wouldnt reply to my messages..

One of our classmates used to stay near Rakas house, we got the address from her, and showed up at his house uninformed.. His mom opened the door..

Aunty, Raka home?
Raka?
Er..I mean Rakesh.. I am his college friend..
Oh.. Hes not here.. He is in the hospital..
Why? He sick? viral fever kya?

Tears swelled up her eyes..

I had known Raka for 3 years.. For more than 2 and a half years he had been my best friend.. But not once.. not even one time did he mention he was touched by cancer..

He had been undergoing chemotherapy for the last few months.. And he never told me.. devil saala..

Men have a weird way of showing hurt.. I didnt go to meet him in the hospital.. Everyone from my group and my class went.. His best friend in class didnt..

Then one day he called.. "Kya saale aaj kal milta nahi.."
They say grown men dont cry.. They were damn right.. I didnt cry.. neither did he..

I did go and meet him that afternoon.. 3 days later he left us... Everyone in our class cried...I didnt..

Its been 6 months since he left us.. I miss him sometimes.. But I dont cry..








My string of thoughts was broken by my mom- Your phone is ringing beta..Answer your phone..

I looked at my cell..

Raka calling...

Hel-Hello..
Hello beta.. This is Rakesh's mother calling..
Ah..hello Aunty..
Many happy returns of the day, beta..
Er.. thank you aunty, but.. but.. how did you know?
Oh..Rakesh had set an alarm on his cell for your birthday..So I called you on his behalf..

Tears ran down my cheeks..
Hes gone, but he was still the first one to call me on my birthday.. devil saala..


P.S. - Inspired from a true story. Rakesh was a friend of a friend..
Rest In Peace mate.. Raka calling...