Musings IV

This story is a classic example of how you can never be prepared for everything.
(Based on a true story. #EuroTrip) 

Its The Journey That Matters

Yet again, there are 3 characters in this story-
the Dude, the Man and the Swag.
The Dude, like all the other dudes in the world, lives with the slogan "Where's the party bro!". His main purpose is to be merry and ensure that everyone else is also having a jolly good time. Yes, he is a Stiffler.
The Man, on the other hand, charms the ladies with his suave.  He is calm and composed and is usually the most prepared among the three, much like Colin Firth in Kingsman. So lets call him that?
The Swag is obviously swag in everything he does. He doesn't yet have a photograph with a straight face. It's a pity that I have make his comparison with Ranveer Singh for my lack of imagination.

Sigh. Anyway moving on,

This incident is set in the eternal city of Rome or Roma as the locals call it. The three heroes are planning to go to Florence or Firenze from Roma Termini. To give you a rough idea Roma Termini is the Dadar station of Italy. Its a vast expanse of platforms as far as the human eye can see. The trains can start from anywhere in the platform, meaning they don't necessarily have to originate at the start of the platform. The platforms are named alpha-numerically- 5A, 7B,24C and so on. The railway station also has metro connections at the lower level but that's a maze for a different story.

The day before their journey, the Man uses the awesome-sauce Eu rail App and figures out that the best train to take would be the 6:28 AM direct. After a night of much merry making and frolicking, the three of them crash late in the night, promising each other that they would get up exactly on time to make it for the train. Sweet! At 5:30 AM, the Man wakes the other two and tells them that he goofed up the time-tables and the train was actually at 6:08AM! The three of them rush with their morning chores and hostel formalities. (A little extra time here would have helped them much with their long journey later on- Italian food is not really easy on everyone you know.) They run towards the station from their hostel with their immensely heavy hiking bags on their backs. They solve the maze, that is Roma Termini, to figure out that they need to get to platform 24C with exactly 6 minutes to spare.

Possible right? Only that they were on platform 1A and they had to cover the entire length of Platform 1 and then go from 1 to 24, run down 24 to reach 24C.

S C R A M and they are off!

Colin Firth takes the lead. His compact 'bag-pack-ing' has given him an aerodynamic advantage. His hands are free and he uses those appropriate running techniques to whiz past the other two. Ranveer has managed to take the best swag selfie which captures the moment. Its basically just him because the other two run away. Nevertheless, he manages to catch up and is now second, very close to the Man. Last but not the least, is the Dude. Stiffler now regrets the last two Lemonica (Italian lemon vodka) shots he had in the previous night. With his extreme hangover, this entire morning has been a haze. He has simply been zombie-following the other two.
So there you have it - Colin Firth followed by Ranveer and at the end we have our Dude-Stiffler.

They have reached the corner of platform 24. From here on, its a straight sprint to 24C and they have only 2 minutes left. Locals say that on any given day 2 minutes would be sufficient to finish that part of the lap, but with their heavy bags they seemed doubtful. They run and run and reach the unshaded part of the platform and there are huge water puddles everywhere. (Oh did I forget to mention that it had rained that morning? Oops, my bad. Back to the story) Slowed by the puddles but not by morale, the three jump and skip only to see their train hoot and leave the platform. Alas!

Out of breath, they sit on a bench for a while only to decide that it was the Man's fault that they missed their train. Colin opens his app again to check how his calculations could go off-track...
and then it hits him.

Picture abhi baaki hai mere dost!

He had been checking the wrong destination all while along. Instead of looking for Firenze, Mr.Colin had entered Pisa on the app. The right train was indeed at 6:28AM. They look at the board to find out that their actual train leaves from 1B, right from where they had started.

The clock shows 6:22 AM. 6 minutes once again!
Our contestants need to do the impossible one more time.

Stiffler makes a dash for it. Realising that he was a laggard the last time, he starts running even before the news hit the other two.  He has already reached halfway through the platform, before the other two even start running. Cursing their luck, the two start sprinting towards their 'actual' train.

All of a sudden, Ranveer sees an underground passageway connecting all the platforms just few paces away. He calls out to the others. Firth hears him and rushes towards this 'cheat-way' but Stiffler has ran way too ahead of them to hear anything. These two now easily run across platforms and land right on Platform 1B! And lo and behold, their train awaits them, with close to 3 minutes to spare. They Hi5 and thank their gods that they made it in time for their actual train.

But wait. Where is the Dude?! The Dude is still far behind running across platforms at the very other end of the terminus, thinking to himself that he would be the first to reach. Very shortly he begins to realise that there is something amiss, and he looks behind to find none of his friends following him. He looks ahead and BAM! he crashes into one of those aluminium garbage cans. He falls down and his bag bursts open and his shaving kit falls out. He gets up, a little disoriented, but still determined to make the train and starts running again, discounting the shaving kit as collateral damage if he made it on time.

The locals wonder if this is some sort of new age yoga that they were witnessing. Some of the Italians were even seen cheering for the kid!

 Meanwhile, Colin Firth attempts to delay the train by sticking his umbrella to block the automatic doors. ( Of course he has an umbrella! ) Ranveer tries to humour the train conductor with selfies to buy them some more time but Stiffler is nowhere to be seen. The train blows its horn and the train conductor, rather rudely, asks the two characters to stop blocking the train from leaving.
The train departs. Game over!
They have missed the train once again!

The two sigh and sit on a bench wondering what to do next. Its a whole 2 minutes later that Stiffler makes an appearance and runs past them, still hoping that they have time, the ever optimistic person that he is. He comes and joins them on the bench . They look at each other, wondering whom to blame this time.

Musings- III

When 'RAGE' takes over

(800+ words, 5 minutes read)

Since I have pledged on this journey to find interesting people from the Indian public transport system, let me continue my tale to this very amusing personality I had an opportunity to meet. 

Conductor. It was only until I was in the fourth standard, did I realise that it was the copper wires that my teacher was referring at when she pointed upwards, and not the khaki-ed dude I saw in the bus. I always wondered how he could carry so much 'electricity' in his bag and too on the floor above ours. Weird.

This particular incident happened when I was in college. Surathkal or rather Mangalore redefines the term 'road-rage' to a whole new dimension. A place where the public bus transport system is controlled privately, everyday is a fight to carry as many passengers as possible and to make maximum out of it obviously. The buses start on the third gear and set records when it comes to the braking distance.
Overtaking ?Naansense. 

It’s more of Why-isn't-the-dumdum-not-going-faster? or 

What-if-there-is-a-cow-in front-of-him? and to top it all, 

If-there-is-enough-space-to-walk-then-its-enough-for-the-bus!

But I happened to meet Mr.Rajkumar (because they were playing the great actor's hit number 'If you come today, you're early' on the radio) on a lazy Sunday afternoon on my way back to the hostel from the city. Being an April afternoon, when the temperature soars to an alarming 40 degrees, the bus wasn't as crowded as it usually would be. I took my ticket from RK and jumped onto a seat 2-3 rows from the driver's seat, plugged on my earphones and let my mind drift.

Half way through my ride, I glanced at the driver and saw that he was driving rather strangely, chest swelling up and down and fists gripped tight and to top it all, RK dancing around him, in hips don't lie fashion, clearly excited about something. I first thought that it might be a new kolavardi routine that I wasn't aware of. But then I saw this plastic bottle being flung from the opposite truck and BAMMM! Right on the driver's head. The truck driver and his cleaner hi-five-ed and sped ahead.

Now, this is definitely not part of the flash mob. 

This is what we know as R.O.A.D-R.A.G.E.

Action. I remove my earphones and I was taken aback by this sudden blast of cacophony. Being a kannadiga, it is 'assumed' that I understand the local language there but when Kannada goes slang, its no different from Japanese. But from the body language of the passengers I figured that the truck driver and our bus driver were not in the best of terms.

Payback. Now it was RK's turn to show his jalwa. As soon as the bus was close to the truck cabin, RK began his volley; which ranged from bottles, caps, broomsticks, scrubbers and even one of his slippers. His dedication is commendable, isn't it? When he finally exhausted his missiles he resorted to the age old master technique that never fails to piss a person off; The Finger^TM! People say love crosses all borders and boundaries, I, however, beg to differ. Try The Finger^TM in any country you wish. It will always work.

Scene. Coming back, we have both the vehicles now heading neck to neck. Surprisingly, NH17 was empty (or probably cleared out for our two heroes.) RK was now leaning out of the window trying to smack the driver of the truck; this was followed by frantic yelling and screaming of a female co-passenger sitting next to me (for a very small personality she had  a very shrill voice.) SLAAAPP! RK was successful in hitting the driver right on his bald patch before he was pulled inside by the passengers inside.But he was not yet content and pleaded for an another chance but the passengers didn't give in.


Comeback. It was the truck's turn now. The cleaner also started catapulting everything he could find in his cabin. Unlike RK he had a secret weapon. His cleaning bucket which was still half full with the dirty mucky water inside. The cleaner very brilliantly emptied the bucket on our bus driver, I speculate to cool him off . Didn't work, too bad. When RK saw this, he was more than furious.He leaned out of the driver's window and pulled the bucket from the cleaner's grip and flung it back on the driver,  leaving the cleaner dazed. The truck sped ahead.


Before the scenario worsened, the passengers overcame the driver and forced him to stop on the side and let the truck pass. RK was not happy with our low zeal. 

We had disappointed him.

Its not everyday that you get to be a part of such an exciting though suicidal contingency. Even for RK with his adventurous spirit and lionhearted-ness, life can be pretty boring and mundane everyday on the same route, standing throughout, daily struggle to find 'change' with almost zero appreciation, so its when these incidents happen that he gets his adrenaline boost. 

All satisfied with my monthly quota of adventure I started walking toward the hostel.
When rage takes over, yeah yeah !

Musings- II

Copied from http://pee-tale.blogspot.com/( my other blog ) for convenience.

When the 'P' got expensive

I have always maintained that the auto-drivers in Mumbai are one of the best conversationalists in the city. In this damned city where a friendly nod or hello is as scarce as the paneer in the paneer tikka masala of a Government Hostel Mess, these auto-drivers can really alleviate the mood with their run-of-the-mill day to day experiences. He may come from various parts of the country- from within the state or 'outside' ( as some may quote ) ;but there are some typical traits to his personality.With the left leg folded ,the non-stop ruminating of paan and a shirt too hot to be buttoned fully; the knack of how he drives the ancient and cacophonous 3-wheeler vehicle (FYI:They run on a motorcycle engine) with utmost harmony is a mystery !

This monday evening,I came across such a specimen on my ride back home from a friend's. The secret of starting a conversation with such people is to smile as soon as you get in. The first thing he asked me was if I was an engineer. I am not sure if my nerdy spectacles or my bulky bag gave him the hint, actually, to think of it every third person in India is an engineer, so I blame it wholly on demography ! He started to enquire about the latest mobile phones in the market. I told him about a few features he should look for while buying a new phone. He smiled back. Then came out the true story..

Apparently on Sunday morning, he, his 'aurat' and his mother were sitting outside this jewellery store. Sunday being the weekly holiday, he didn't have much work to do and was busy playing with his 5 year old son outside the closed jewellery store . Out of the blue, the store owner and his son came to check on something inside the store. After a few minutes, the owner came out and started peeing on the wall few meters away from the store. The autorickshaw driver's son was playing quite close by and this irked his father. The driver stood up and started screaming at the owner but the owner quietly relieved himself to glory ! He told me that the store had a separate bathroom and toilet inside and the owner acted in such a way just to drive them out of that place.The driver and his family stayed in a shanty near to the store and in the scorching heat, the shanty would get hot enough to cook a tandoori and so they preferred to sit outside.The cool uncaring temperament of the owner piss-ed the driver even more. Unable to handle the insult infront of his family, he started punching the owner. In between the volley of fists, the driver thrust his phone to his son. The son taking this as a signal from his father threw the phone, aiming at the owner's head. Amazingly, the throw hit its target and the victim went grunting back to the store, cursing all the way. The driver said that he had never been more proud of his son. There was a very big smile on his face.

He did not care that his phone broke into a million pieces.
He did not care that it would cost him another 2-3K to buy a new phone.
He did not care that he would have to work overtime for a few weeks to makeup for the loss.
All he cared was that he was proud of his son's 'heroic' stunt which he said made his chest swell up with satisfaction

At the end of the tale reciting it was time for me to say something. I was torn between justifying the store owner's act and driver's take on ethics. The store owner was in a way right in his point that such pavement encroachers were indeed a public nuisance and with the instances of vandalism on a rise, it becomes difficult to trust random people. However his unsanitory uncouth behaviour was not acceptable. On the other hand, the driver's helpless condition is also understandable.

By God's grace, before I could say anything we reached my building and I hopped out of the autorickshaw and paid him off. I told him a few more things about mobile phones and thanked him for the ride. He smiled.

When I walked till my door all I could think was, all said and done, the pee got very expensive for the poor autorickshaw driver. :-P

 

Musings-I

Oh Darn !

Word of Caution:  For all those who thought this blog would be yet another bickering about the present political chaos in the country or how the left should slap the right, then I am sorry to inform you that the 'x' on the top right corner is the best place to go. This blog is also not some abstract which will require you to warp yourself to a whole new time dimension to understand. I write solely to tell you about the experiences that I face in my journey through life.

This story deals with my encounter with a particular devious taxi driver. It so seems that I have developed rather a knack with the Mumbai public transport system! This story has 3 characters- Mr. Romeo, Mr. Goatee and me (original names changed for no apparent purpose). The episode starts with our Romeo wanting to surprise his girl at the airport (with all melodrama) - hence the name. She was to return to Mumbai after a 15 day trip to the south-east. So Romeo suddenly realises that he has to see her after this long gap and decides to meet her at the airport that night in his new car; Goatee and me tag along. For sweet love!

After the love birds met, our Romeo was in high spirits (strictly emotional) because Juliet liked this unexpected encounter and the bounty of love for this crazy dude expanded even further. On our way back we were caught up in a choke-a-block traffic jam just outside a very famous hotel. We were stranded on one side of the road with cars lined up till the naked eye could see. It began to drizzle. In this awesome weather the three of us sat in the car smiling like idiots, reminiscing in our own thoughts;

Romeo thinking about the split second that he got to see Juliet,

Goatee lost in his thoughts on a new hairstyle to suit his goatee and

Me pondering over my existence on this planet.

Ssscccccreeeeeeecccchhhhhh !!!!

Then we heard this horrible grotesque sound, much like a drunk cat singing the tunes of a very nasal singer. Before we analysed what had happened we saw a very ancient taxi bobbing to and fro in front of us with a huge piece of metallic junk towed at the back. I got out of the car to check the damage and to my shock the car was entirely naked below the bonnet at the front. It was not junk behind the taxi, it was our car’s bumper! What the...!

Flashback: Where there is a will, there is a way. Where there is Rajinikanth, there is no stopping his way. As if to prove this point, the driver who was some 20 feet behind us, turned his taxi and jumped over the pavement and drove along with ‘dhoom machale’ blasting on his radio. When he came close to our car he had to dodge a bench on the pavement, and in this pursuit he nudged our vehicle and his back bumper got jammed into our front bumper and then began the sweet sounds of melancholy.

I got out of the car, sleeves rolled up, all ready to confront the stuntman, half afraid that the driver might be some long lost cousin of Dara Singh. To my wonderment out came a tiny little figure which boosted my confidence significantly. I cornered him and started with my ranting, all my frustration focused and ready for deployment. I looked back for support. There lay my Romeo- on his knees, hands on his head, half scared of a big black dog licking his foot and half scared imagining what his father might look like when he sees the car which now looked like an old man without dentures; and then there was goatee- still in the car, undisturbed and serene, calmly continuing his analysis on his new hairdo.

The taxi driver played the blame game initially but as his chances got slimmer tried to use the much acclaimed ‘garib hoon bhaisahab, 3 bacche hai mere, maaf kar do’ card. But I remained undeterred in my mission to vent. Out of the blue came a cool cab driver to the stuntman’s rescue. He tried to calm the situation with his practical advice and succeeded in convincing me as well (actually because no one else needed convincing; my two mates had lost hope long back.) Now Romeo could now be seen with his head on Goatee’s shoulders, Goatee, mind you, is still tripping over his hairstyle.

By now the traffic started to move as well. We decided that it was best in everyone’s interest that we search for a mechanic and get the thing fixed right away! The cool-cab driver happened to have expertise in this area as well and had apparent ‘contacts’ nearby. So I unhooked the bumper from the taxi and called out to my friends. Those few moments were enough for the taxi driver to sit in the car and bolt off in style. The cool cab driver ran off as well.

So I stood there with this very heavy bumper in my hand covered with muck. A lot of things came to my mind as I saw the taxi zoom and zigzag its way out of there, but at that moment all I could say was,

“Oh Darn!”