I Exist Damn It! What If My FACEBOOK Page Does Not!!!

“Are you not on FACEBOOK! “

“Hmm! “ , Raj replied with a half a smile to cover up his discomfort.

“Really? “ , came the question his way…..

“Hmm”.. Raj maintained a status quo. Lately he adapted to appear calm, even though the question annoyed him.

“I can’t believe it!“ the fellow exclaimed, as though a punishable offence is committed.

“You have to “, he made the point clear & leaned back to rest and closed his eyes.

“Being so”cialized, these days, implies a FACEBOOK, that’s the bottom line.

       The journey was exhaustive being lengthy. And Raj was happy to find a fellow of his age to chitchat with. But the fellow’s over enthusiasm about knowing stuff Raj did not, kept Raj frustrating as they moved on.

    “Hey... Did you ever see anything like this” he stated after an unconcerned HI, showing yet another of those electronic gadgets from his bag, besides the N* Nokia, A* IPAD, F*T* watch and some more of those cozy thing he was adorned with. He had almost everything a person of his age is expected to have.

“That’s a present from my cousin: cool huuunhh!!” … “Ofcoures from US “he informed, as if he expected the question.

“But I can’t believe you are not of FB. Come-on half of the world is!”…and he continued

    FACEBOOK has this, FACEBOOK has that… it has what ORKUT or TAGGED do not have and what it has not, that ORKUT and TAGGED have….

And he made an attempt to invent putting his brain at work … once at least …

“You know what… There should be forum in FACEBOOK for people who are not on FACEBOOK… “

“In there people who are not on FACEBOOK can explain why they are not on FACEBOOK…. There must be reason rii’ght. …. Trust me half of the world is on FACEBOOK. There must be sooo”lid reason to be not on FACEBOOK..”

“if they were on FACEBOOK and they no longer are … then what made them to move out of FACEBOOK…… who the hell would want to move out of …. FACEBOOOK : the most happening thing around…….“ he continued not being bothered if he was listened to.

“You must talk to Mark Zuckerberg about this……!” Raj interrupted, rather aggressively after his tolerance reached to verge of breaking. After all he heard the name a 100 odd times…..

“I was saying who would want to move out of “FACEBOOK””, it was evident he was trying to prove there was no world if no FACEBOOK. What Raj wondered was if he paid attention to the his statement….

“By the way… who the hell is MARK Z… Zuc.. What’s that …. Dint catch you….” ….

“ it’s ZU’ KAR’ BERG” Raj replied with a notion of pride.” He is the one who created the FACEBOOK“he concluded.

“Ohh……! “He exclaimed and he turned to face the window. One could see a certain inconvenience in his attitude. Raj assumed he felt sorry for not being abreast of the man who made half the world stick to his invention……

“Who cares anyway….”, he broke the silence with the same enthu as before, ”So I was taking of a forum in FB…” he continued being least worried of the information that was provided.

Raj paid no attention to what was being said…. wondered how the meaning of acquaintance is being changed
from being physically aware of a person to virtual sense, in the e-world, where one is least certain of the identity people provide.

“Guess what I have 1400 friends out there in the FACEBOOK ! “.. he declared after a momentary silence ….”Four”teeeen hundred odd you see….” He concluded expecting Raj to be bewildered at his achievement.

“ohk”, Raj subdued his anguish. Replied merely to respect the protocol of conversation.

“and they span, all around the world… “ he continued, unconcerned, “500 from the US, can you believe it. ?” …..
“do have a bloody choice!”. Raj ruled out sarcastically.

“u don’t believe it right !!!”, he took the sarcasm to disbelief..

“God save him from my wrath, I am about to burst.” Raj told to himself. “I believe you my friend…..!”, he replied trying to sound normal all along.

He never cared to listen to the conformation and he continued,” how can you even think of believing, you never even sa”w the FACEBOOK! “

He struck the wrong note. Raj was out of mind at his last words.

“How many friends you said you have?”, Raj was angry, but tried sounding tranquil.

“What? .. “ he was surprised at the question .

“Friends! How many of them you have? “
“1400 plus “

“Give a count including your real life friends”

“Another 20 odd! “. He replied after a moment of thought.

“Good.. When did you last talk to any of you real life friends?”

“3 days ……. 4 .. a week back I guess “

“Now think well before you answer the next question …. Say you are in deep trouble, god forbid, and it’s a matter of life and death; give a count of people who will come to your rescue- !”
……………….
“Three or four may be! “, he was alarmed no doubt.

“Where are they from? The FACEBOOOOK ? “

“No, they are my school mates and a couple of them my neighbors.”

“When is the last time you had a talk with any of these people whom you can count your life on?”

He was silent. It has been ages one can sense.

“And you claim to have 1400 odd friends. I don’t say it’s not a worth to have a chain of contacts. Or a page in the social network. But that’s not life. FACEBOOK cannot be life. “

He turned pale; Raj knew he would dislike the whole conversation. But he pulled the string harder, and pay the price he must.

“Its people around us who count. They are the real ones. They deserve our time. That is what I feel” ……

“ I have 20 odd friends, I meet every one once in 2 days, I talk to them , their families, we party we share …. We live… We exist! “

“My FACEBOOK page doesn’t exist, but I do……..!

Now…………Ask yourself! “
…
…
…
“Dude, What you do?”, Raj broke the silence, which lasted for a while now.

“Sorry sir “”,

“I said what you do for a living? “.

“I work at the reception, for a continental hotel! And what about you sir? “

Raj smiled and said,
“Well…….
…………. ……I program…………..
……………………….for the FACEBOOK”……………………………………………….”

               And silence is what followed as the plane soared, piercing its way past the ambush of clouds and the sun, after traversing half the world, continued its journey down the western horizon……

The Bicycle

         The T-Wave that struck the city recently left no part of the social life untouched. Auto’s, the only mode of transport back and forth to office, went on strike, the other day. Some way I managed to reach office. Going back was now the challenge I had to face.

            I set out. Walked past the main gate, and was aghast to see not a single vehicle to take a ride on. Couple of calls I made to enquire the cause for the horrific state. Waited for a while and seeing no light of hope, I let me legs do the job.

            People of the same profession are sympathetic to their fellow mates, and to exploit a lift under such circumstances is easy. But that hour in the day saw not many coming off their duties and there was not much movement on the road. The few, who came, were already booked with fellow riders and I was left with no option but to walk my way back to the junction from where I could manage to get a city bus.

            I walked… though the junction looked to be at farther end of the world cause of the tiredness clouding the body and soul, I walked. And after a few steps I heard a bell ring of a bicycle. Surprised I was, for, on this path I walked, a bicycle was least expected.

            I turned to see who that gentle man was, that dared move around on a bicycle. The surprised was levitated as I found that the rider was a little boy, of 10 or 12. He could barely touch both the pedals at a time. And he made a herculean effort to ride the bicycle over the elevated road.

            A boy, of 10 or 12. With curly untidy hair. The dress he wore was on the verge of being torn. Most part of it was dirty, little that was neat, had cloth patches used to cover up the torn part .the feet had cracks, evidently because of the chemicals the cement has. Paint like white shade covered all of the visible skin and most part of his dress. A boy of 10 or 12.

            A ray of hope, I realized, on a path which saw no vehicle for 15 minutes. But with the attire I possessed, would I take a ride? , pondering thus,

“Could you give a ride?” I requested the boy who kept pedaling as he moved past me. He stared at me as though I made an unpardonable crime by intervening into his world of joyousness he made out of the bicycling.

He stopped after couple of steps. Possibly for the innocent face I put up, or at the attire I wore.

“Sit”, the boy commanded.

“You sit, I’ll ride”, I insisted as I caught hold of the handle.

“Nop, I will ride!” the boy never left the handle go out of his grip.

“No, you will not be able to! let me ride”, I replied at the innocence of the boy. ”you are just a little kid”, I tried bullying.

And he handed his vehicle to me. We set off, once I made him sit on cross bar…..

“Where do you work?” I questioned out of curiosity.

“Back at the construction “, he replied, “my mother, father, and uncle work “, he continued, mostly, enthusiastically.

“No school?” I asked. I could see his face turn to an expression we call frown.

“T-Band – !”, he said.

“Hmm…. Where are you going then? “,

“To get a cigarette packet!” the boy replied, “to the junction!”

“You smoke? “, I teased.

“Noooooooo… for my father, mother. Uncle and their friend!” he smiled as he replied.

“Don’t they know it’s harmful” I questioned to see what he would say. He nodded as an answer and smiled.

            My muscles were stressed at the effort I put up. It was ages that I rode a cycle. Ages it has been that I even touched one. Or well... the truth is that the body has accustomed itself for a stress free life. It’s the mind that is stressed out in the kind of work I do. The body, it’s at resting state most of the times. And for a sudden motion from stand still, after effects are deemed to follow.

“What work u do..?” I asked him breaking the silence which lasted for a while.

“I carry brinks to the top and empty cement trays to bottom”, he replied. “And I water the walls when all bricks are over!”

“And what are you paid.”

“My father knows it!” he said. ”he buys me a rubber ball and couple of chocolates now and then.”

“He promised that he will buy a dress this Sunday. But there was no work for two days. So he doesn’t have money now.”

            There was no work for two days. I remembered the T-Band and yet another national band called by the opposition condemning the price hike.

“We dint even had breakfast today”, the boy interrupted my flow of thoughts.

“Mother said, we have to save some grains for couple of days, there could be more bands soon.” the boy concluded.

            Save the daily wages the family gets, they seem not to have any regular source of income. And the price hike and agitations add to their misery.

We neared the junction and my thoughts were filled with vacuum as I peddled.

There was misery, suffering all around.  Question was “who is responsible?”

“wanna eat something ?” , I asked the boy out of concern. Long days work it must have been.

“May be a cup of tea? “, I re-questioned after he nodded.

            He took the control of the cycle back as soon as I got down. And before I could even make an attempt to offer him something, gone he was………. 

The Seat By The Window!

“ is someone sitti……..” I felt I heard someone saying ……
    The voice damped out…….deep sleep gulped me…… why would I love to break such a heavenly Trans to answer a stupid question…….“is the seat occupied ! “……….. generally
& if it’s a man who is asking ……..particularly !!!
    I dint move a bit. The hand ki that I used to cover my eyes provided a blurred visual of people searching for places to seat themselves.
    I boarded the bus to the city at the start point and there were hardly 3 to 4 passengers. Although I sat by the window initially, but altered my place to the one next as the cold breeze of 6 in the morning, that was finding its way from the miniature gaps the windows left, was piercing the body like the sharp knives cutting through the soft skin, once the bus setoff.
    And eventually, I was carried to the heavenly worlds of dreamland where I wandered the beautiful landmasses the waterfalls, deserts and past the oceans and …… .
“ is that seat occupied ! “ the voice commanded , I could sense.
Crap!!!
    Such was the nap that an hour passed in a blink of an eye. I wondered when we traveled that 30km and reached the next major stop, which at other times is a hell lot to cover particularly on the dusty roads partially under repair most of the times.
“The seat…….” The man became restless. I could not gather why he insisted on enquiring me until I saw the baggage on the seat by the window.
    The Bag ……….. My Bag , I remember placing it there.
“I guess so…….!” I finally replied.
    That was the punishment I could give for disturbing ….. thrice…….
    The man moved onto the next vacant seat behind me…..
“ keep walking ……….!” I felt the joy restore, which I lost when he woke me out of the nap of utmost ecstasy.
    And I slid back the Handki over my eyes to prevent the ascending brightness, as the sun started to appear, from stealing off, that little drowsiness that was left behind.
And
“Is the seat occupied !!! “ …………. I heard someone utter…………..
“ Nop ………….. not at all “, I said as I moved the baggage to my lap and gave way to the person to the seat by the window, smiling all along !!!
    Of course it was a lady……… fairy?......... can say so………….. fair enough though ! if not fairy!
“Not every day one happens to acquire such a lively (lovely) co- traveler”
    Someone truly said………… “Every dog………….!” Ahh…..not an apt comparison I suppose.. yet
    Well…… she settled and no sooner she did, I observed that little of the drowsiness escaped off the eyes.
    The brain became alert. Chemical imbalance, I read it sometime back, out of extreme excitement possibly cause of high sensory activity which might involve vision as well, triggered by the proximity effects …… that’s a bit of information I suppose.
    And the handki moved to my pocket,…………….voluntarily
    And we set off again to cover rest of the 4 hours of journey.
………………………….
    The ring tone of a mobile woke me up……
    Not sure when I slipped to sleep.
“What the H….” , I held my words. After all it was her mobile.
    Never mind ….. I thought.
“….office ! …. No … won’t be going today! ,” I (over)heard followed by a chuckle…..
    The sweet voice sounded like a hundred violin’s playing “Come Josephine in My Flying Machine!” at the background.
    God has a way with the design of the female species, I thought.
    If the girl is cute, Then let the voice be sweet. – I smiled to myself at the thought, and felt proud of the discovery. Unfortunately I had no one to share it with.
    There is another side of it I realized. If the girl is cute, then let the boy hear her voice as sweet, irrespective of the modulation her throat brings about – and the smile faded…..
     Gaad izz great !
    And I decided to start a conversation. After all, not every day you get to make a friend.. girl to be specific.
    The call ended…. I made up a question in my mind “ which company you work for…. “ that sounded apt for the situation. Safe and diplomatic. All is well… I told my conscience. My heart raced. All of a sudden I could hear nothing but my heartbeat. It’s a stranger that I must start to talk. The words passed off the throat.  Reached the mouth I could feel…. And
“…….. “ , I felt I spoke, but the voice never came out ,I released. And she put the mobile back to her handbag, closed her eyes to rest.
“shit ! dumba** “ , my brain prompted the heart ! or the other way round as I leaned back out to mourn on my failure.
    Trust me; the words never came out of the mouth.
    Half the journey was already covered I realized.
    The time showed 8.30.
    Another call to her mobile and my fortune favored to listen to that sweet voice.
“ will reach by 11. Not sure if I will go to the office. ..” she replied…
    Fate, I assumed, gave a second change.
    The call ended….. I had the question at my disposal… “ which company you work for…. “
Ya .. that’s the question … apt one…. I practiced to myself a couple of time…. So as not to sound stupid…. My heart raced as I rehearsed…. I could hear nothing but the question and the heart beat intermittently.
“ which ………. !” ,
    Ah… ! she turned to face me…… for a moments glace and back she leaned and closed her eyes.
I clearly saw her this time, I was left dumbfound.
     She turned out to be prettier than I assumed she was, at the first time I saw her . Drowsy I was. And the proximity of a female species does make the mind go crazy. I had little more that a glance to decide on her features then.
    Little more than a glace I had, even now. But her face glowed cause of the sun rays that escaped the window on the other side, that hit her.
    Did she hear me? ..
    Did she not? . I pondered scolding myself all the way for being an introvert.
“nine onza nine…. nine twoza eighteen…. Nine threezaa twentyseven….”, a girl on the front seat was uttering.
    And we smiled. She smiled.
“so you work for a software firm….!”
    Bravo …. I asked just to find the glace to extend to a stare in amazement.
“Of course yes! “She replied. “About you?’
“hmm ... unfortunately!” I took my turn to reply and she burst into a laugh.
    God indeed has a way with pretty girls.
“which company? “, I questioned.
“Wipro …… And you! … Don’t tell me you are from Wipro As well!” she said in a teasing tone.
God ……… indeed.
“ha ... no no… it’s CG!” I replied with a smile following her.
and we kept talking……bout work…..bout qualification….. bout recession….. bout nativity and nothing at times.
     She amazed me in every possible way a girl is expected to. And she smiled at my silly answers. Exclaimed at the little truthful information I conveyed just to see her wondering.
    Time flew with Josephine in Flying Machine….. faster the clock changed.
   Why does happy time end so fast, god has a way with that too….. I had no choice.
And we neared….
    She explained a route to the office, which I pretended not to be aware of …. Just to hear her speak of course.
    And she did it in quite a detail that I felt like telling the truth that I knew the route….
    But ….. I never said so.
    Fortunately her residence was on the same route and we decided to board a city bus once we reached the city.
    We found couple of seats similar to the one we traveled to the city in.
    One by the window and the next one to it.
    I offered her the seat by the window…… the bus was completely occupied with that last two vacant seats being captured by us. Couple of people boarding behind us and were forced to stand.
“should I ask for her number? mail id? … “was the next question that constantly hit my thoughts after every pause we took of the conversation?
    And before I could push myself beyond that threshold to dare ask a contact, her destination was reached.
We shared a fairy well….
    And she got off the bus leaving a vacuum in my thoughts.
    The world suddenly went numb... Nothing really seemed real.
    I was doubtful if I was even travelling in a city …….. or was wandering in a desert of loneliness…
“Do you believe in destiny” my conscience questioned.
    If I do, then we would cross ways some time ……
“can you give way please!” …….
    I was dragged to reality before I finished my conversation with my conscience.
“Sure …..!”, I lifted my face just to find ………….
    And the pleasure restored, heartbeat raised, and unexplainable joyful inconvenience surrounded me as the bus took pace ………….
GAAD IZZZ GREAT !

He Was Family

Boys don’t cry!

Do they …

They don’t ….  I dint cry

But he was family after all.

I dint talk much to him recently. I was a grown up now. Not a school going kid, who had ample time to play around, anymore. However we would exchange those concerned looks.

Did I say school, ah! What a beautiful time we had. I would hurry back home just to find him waiting for me, not sure if he did wait, but I would assume so. I would teach him how to catch the ball. He learnt it pretty well sooner than we expected. He would go catch it and get it back, only if that female dint cross his mind or way, otherwise he would follow her leaving the ball to its fate, which would, of course, be me getting it myself. He was a naughty fellow indeed.

And he was a terror. People literally feared to walk that way he went. Merely his sight would send a shiver down one’s spine. It won’t be exaggerating if I say that no one ever dared look him into his eyes. He remained unpredictable to us even. We never knew what make him happy and what made him sad. If he was too happy, he was too dangerous to mess around with. He caught my foot couple of times I tried messing, but was careful enough not to cause any damage as such. But he certainly left a fear in me and I started being careful not to play pranks.

We were all busy figuring and fixing our own lives that we forgot to spend time with him. The moment I g0t back home I buried myself into the 17” monitor surfing net like a mad man. Only when I went to the stairs that I remembered he was around. I wondered what he was feeling like. But was too busy to wait and enquire and would simply get back to the PC.  

Lately he was being sad and would go around the streets in search of his mates. He would return late at nights. Sometimes dint return at all.  I was too busy with my life that I barely noticed until today, at this point in time , when I realized what I have lost. That 24k idiot box would not shower the affection that he would have done. Had I spent all that time  with him, I would have left with sweet memories of his at least. I guess I would not forgive myself for that.

He is no more. A call to my home was answered by sad news. He was run over by a speeding school bus. He dint suffer much however. The death came almost instantly. Thank god he dint suffer that pain.

 But surely he left us all in pain. A vacuum occupied my thoughts the moment I heard the news. All the happy past flashed. Suddenly I was here and suddenly I was there.  I tried stopping the flow of thoughts that literally brought my world to standstill. I was no more concentrating on what I was doing. The world went numb.

We would call him KARAN, the unbeatable one. What if he was a dog, he was family after all.

And I dint cry.

Boys don’t cry.

But for those few drops that managed to slip out of my grip in trying to hold them back and which I quickly dried before anyone could see them.

Boys don’t cry, lest there would be no point in being a boy.

But he was family…..

He lacked the tongue but not heart.

An Appointment

It’s when a dozen voices start answering you for the address enquiry you make to the person sitting next to you, in a densely packed CITY bus, guiding you almost till the destination is reached, that you realize you are in Hyderabad. If you are lucky, there will be cases when you will be escorted to the place you wish to reach. I wasn’t that lucky however at that hour of the day. It was not a busy hour; however the traffic on the way was quite enough to give the bus a halt sometimes as long as 15 minutes at a stretch. Being somewhere on time is a dream that never come true for me. Sometimes I start late, and other times ….. I start late…..

   All in all, I never miss to be there, even if it’s an hour delayed. With a look at the mobile I realized I was running late by 15 minutes. The stop seemed to be nearing and just then I heard

“This is where you have to get down ! “ the conductor shouting from the other end of the bus.

“Yeah !, this is the stop , don’t jump,”, an old man insisted looking at my position on the foot board, “ the bus will stop at the stop !” he concluded.

“ Come on uncle , am a software professional !” , I tried to convey but my voice never reached the poor fellows ears.

“right here , this is it “, the boy who stood by my seat all along conveyed. He looked quite happy to get that seat as I left it. No wonder he was in a good mood to inform.

“ya I was told !” I replied.

 It appeared to me as if I were a thief, being chased and the crowd shouting “Catch him catch him!” on my back as so many of them were eager to get me off the bus. The place was quite familiar to me and as it had been 3 years that I dint move around, that I just wanted to confirm if I was getting down at the right place. But the CROWD.

 I quickly jumped off the bus as it slowed down just near to the stop, ignoring the old man’s instructions. I could still hear him shouting, not to do it. The place changed a lot as 3 years is quite a long time and for a Hitech city as this, things change rapidly and get beyond the point of recognition. The divider that lay in the middle of road appeared more or less like the china wall. Raised 2 feet above the ground, I couldn’t figure out  if it was just a road divider or a country’s border.

“ Bloody contractors , they leave no chance to eat away governments money!”. Said I to the man who was in the venture of crossing the wall, sorry divider, along with me. He ignored my statement and went on his way jumping onto the other side. I wondered if he was a contractor himself as I crossed to the other end of the road. “ Who cares anyway!”.

The last time I moved around the place, it was deserted, almost no shop’s or bakeries. Things changed a lot. I slipped myself into one of those familiar looking streets as I moved ahead to make the appointment happen. It was already 25 minutes past 7, and I desperately looked around to get good picture of the place and to see if I could recognize any of the surroundings. I failed miserably and without wasting much time on pondering the reasons of my failure, I enquired in one of those road side CHAT BHANDAR’s.

“Is this the way to Hyd Eye Clinic!”, I asked. The fellow gave a sarcastic look, as the smile faded which he put up when I was approaching his vehicle, probably because I was interrupting his work or might be that he was expecting a customer out of me and I turned out to be yet another trespasser into his part of the land.

“ Go straight !” he commanded as I was just nearing the 4 wheeler, pointing to the direction he insisted me to move, and I guess wishing that I don’t get much nearer to his kingdom.

“ thanks !” I dint lose my part of decency as I replied with a smile expecting the smile back, which never came my way.

The street narrowed into a lane as I moved ahead hurriedly without paying much attention to the surroundings. The screen shot of my last visit to the place suggested my moving to the next lane and I did exactly as was expected to do. The time running out on the other hand, I never cared to pay attention to the notice boards around. As I entered the lane, i could see no proper light source around but for the headlamps of the vehicles passing by now and then. I moved ahead expecting to find the place. a couple of enquires and I was advised to move ahead. A junction came where I had to make choice between two ways. I took the right and I was right in choosing it, I guessed.

I walked for another 5 minutes and the place started looking familiar to me. I presumed I was finally there. The lane broadened into a street and there I could see the board of the place I wished to give a visit. What I saw next startled me. Looking at left I could see the same Chat Bhandar I enquired in. soon I realized that I missed reading the boards and made a merry go round of the place. since there were no customers at his vehicle , the owner smiled at me, as I looked puzzled. I guess he got that I made a fool out of myself.  

                The appointment went quite well, however the smile dint leave my thought. I dint want to get into a fight so I slowly slipped off to the other road instead of going from the one I came, after the appointment. Soon I caught a City bus back to my abode.

“The way that I came was the way I should be going back!”, thinking thus I seated myself to the nearest empty place I could find .

“ IIIT Stop” , I told the conductor as I got some change off my pocket sufficient enough to get the ticket, as he approached me after quite a lot many stops after I boarded.

“We come that way, we don’t go the same way , you are into the wrong bus !” the fellow exclaimed as he smiled . The bus moved past the nearest stop to my location .

“NOT AGAIN ……….!” I shouted in despair. 

A Ten !

             The morning sun was getting brighter and the climate was getting hotter as the bus set off after a long wait. Running late on Monday morning I was in no mood to wait for another bus, though the one am sitting in was fully loaded with almost no gap even for the wind to pass by. Had I not jumped into the bus when it was about to reach the start point I would not have made it to that seat immediately next to the reserved seats for ladies. It was a 2 seater and I left the window coz of the sunrays that were directly hitting the head. The 10 o’clock sun shone at its best and, 1 minute at such a spot and you will have the baking effect.

A boy found his way to the seat immediately after me and was about to jump into the seat by the window. As it was a seat painted in green I took the chance to seat myself into it without paying much attention to the paint above the window indicating ladies reservation. Generally it’s the yellow painted ones are reserved for them. The boy was careful enough and he pointed to the paint as he paused in his attempt to occupy the seat.

“The seat is in green !” , I said ,”we can argue if someone insists us to get up”, I explained as he looked confused unable to decide on whether to sit or not to. Further he had no choice either but for sitting on that one empty place in the whole bus.  He adjusted himself.

The bus took pace and I started to search some pretty face in the front to sooth the eyes. Unable to find any that could capture my attention; I turned to the streets and wondered if I would ever make it to the office with that speed the bus was being driven.

“Ticket’s!”, commanded the conductor as he snapped his fingers.

‘Gachibowli….” Said I as I gave the Rs.12 that’s needed for the ticket.  

‘Here … !” he whispered as he handed over the ticket.

At that very moment a lady found the vacant seat in the one before us and got herself into that place.

“Ticket’s!”,the conductor snapped again pointing to the women.

“Gachibowli…. “ the lady requested as she gave the Rs.20 that was with her.

The conductor took the 20 and slipped it into the bag he carried, and got the ticket punched. The lady gave a Rs.2 coin so as to get  Rs.10 back from the conductor. The man took out a 10 and held it in his hand as he saw her searching for the coin in her bag, obviously he was expecting the 2 so that he don’t have to give Rs 8 in return. The man took the 2 from the lady, handed the ticket but did not give the 10, and moved ahead to the next seat.

“I gave a 20 !” the lady shouted as she was bewildered  at the act of the conductor.

“no you dint !”, the man replied showing the 10+2 which he still held In his hand.

“No, I gave 20 , you dint return the 10 !” the lady explained.

He got furious and took out all the money he had in his bag and showed there was no 20.

“She took out 20, am not sure if she gave you!”  the man standing next to her informed as the conductor put up a question mark face looking at him expecting him to clarify.

“She gave 20 !” I could not wait anymore to help the lady get back her 10, and being a spectator of the thing that was happening.

“Ohh ! is it.. !” the fellow gave a sarcastic statement , “  if there are soo many witnesses of the 20 she never gave, what’s there for me to say” , he concluded as he gave the 10 to her.

Evidently, he was not worried of the 10 he lost , but what mattered most was the defame he faced. Now was the trouble time for me. I giggled as he turned his back on to us, looking at the situation he was in. A blunder from my end as he heard me even after my being at most careful.

He might have let gone the issue had he not heard me smiling at his back. Now he was furious. He looked at me with an urge to hit me hard, I could feel it in his gaze. My being next to the ladies seat saved me……… I guessed.

At the next stop a group of women with their children boarded from the front, and reached directly to the place I was sitting in. one of the ladies pointed at the painting above the window. I knew she was expecting me and the fellow next to me to get up and get lost as it was ladies seat.

I pointed at the seat indicating it was green and not yellow.

She got my intension and again asked me to look up.

“Bloody hell !” I thought, and was about to make a move but the fellow next to me insisted to stay, so I paused.

The kids, they almost started seating themselves on the seat. The lady gave a look at the children and then to me. Blackmail , I felt for a while, but had no choice but to get up looking at the little menace’s that were making hell lot of noise.

There came the conductor again. Quite happy to see the situation I was in. gave a sarcastic smile. Gave the tickets to the ladies & giggled as he left the spot I was standing in.  I could see the joy in his face. He was the happiest being on earth at that moment.

I couldn’t help but smile as he left. I was angry at the kids but felt pity for the conductor. At one point I was so furious , I thought of giving the Re.10, which he lost , out of my pocket . But then , Rs.10 is quite a big amount and I gave up the idea.

The bus picked up speed but the traffic on the road made it run late by almost a half hour.  I was too late to the office already and could not afford to waste any more time. So I jumped out of the running bus at the IIIT stop where I could find the shuttle directly to office. The bus stopped however since few girls were to get down at the very spot.

              There he was !... the conductor standing at the back door of the bus, looking at me, with an expression I would never forget. He came all the way from the front just to catch me get down, and why will he not……………

           I owed him the Rs.10 he lost in battle with the lady.

A Surprise

“Crackers… Diwali…. “ I tried explaining what we were looking for gesturing all the time to the keeper of the first shop we found right next to the bus stop.

“Entha?’ (What?)  He questioned with almost a puzzled look. Thanks to the fiends at NIT Calicut , even we got acquainted with some regularly used words.

“Crackers ….. Bombs…… flowerpots”… my friend tried to convey.

The man got even more surprised at out question the next time. There is no fault of his either. It’s the north of Kerala and people do not fancy crackers in Diwali. In fact to many its no festival at all.

And we were in search of the crackers at such a place as this! But never ever imagined these people won’t even know the word CRACKER !

“Crackers  ... bombs ….”  We inquired in the next shop.

The fellow put a look as we were members of some Terror group looking around for ammunitions ! 

“Diwali …. Bombs… “I quickly confirmed not giving him much time to decide on our identities.

“From NIT.. Came…” I added.

You need to break the language or probably rip it apart to convey your intensions across the table. Lest otherwise it will be impossible to get information out of the crowd out here in Kerala where Hindi is almost a foreign language.

“Diwali anoo !... Westhill !...Evade illaa !” (Diwali ? Go to West hill ! not available here ) the guy finally understood the trouble we are into and suggested .

A little discussion and we were into the auto heading towards West Hill..

“I wonder what trouble we have to face in getting out stuff there!”

“Let’s see!”  I said.

We came to know the fellow dropped us at quite long a distance from the spot we wanted to go as we enquired. A half a KM walk awaited us and we moved hoping to find the place soon.

Besides a 3 storied building there was a way which led to the crackers shop. Ah the most cherished!

Once at the outlet we started figuring out the naming conventions they followed to get the stuff we wanted. Finding it to be almost impossible to get tongue twist to the new words, we decided to go the normal way .. … break the language or rip it up ……..

“Flower pot’s” we declared as our first choice.

“Entha !” (what) ..

“I don’t think we will celebrate Dewali this year” I said to my friend in Telugu out of distress at the expression the shopkeeper put up.

But the next words of him which followed mine left us with no choice but to be dumb found.

“Em kaavaaloo cheppandii ( Tel what you require  (in Telugu))” the shopkeeper said to us in a language known to us!