Showing posts with label morning walk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label morning walk. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Laugh The Walk

Photo by jenny downing on Flickr.
Well 2 long months and no post. A bit busy and a lot more lazy. Anyways out of excuses now and I have a lot of time and some nice stories. Here comes one that happened today morning...

A rather long night sleep, whole 10 hours of it, to leave the whole body sore and lungs out of Oxygen, the only remedy could be a morning walk at 10! Its another usual walk on the same path carved using Eco-friendly fly-ash bricks, I am admiring the early winter greenery and the ultimate bright sunlight that baths every fig and blade of grass and helps the mud dry down only to be wet again tomorrow with the slight dew and water supply from the municipal tube well.

Bored of MP3s I switch to radio and find it interesting as it is more life-like, unpredictable and out of control. It makes you seek and then teases and torments you lest you are exhausted clicking the only button you got to control (make objective choices!!! :O WTF am I writing!), somewhat like suppressing an itch! And while browsing you come across songs and plays, which you like and dislike. In haste you press the button and the next moment you regret it, but you got no choice to rewind but you can take the longer and tedious and a lot much frustrating route and get back to the same place when it comes the whole way around. You missed a bit, but you learnt to be a bit cautious... (but you never learn not to be philosophical, it's so easy to get dragged along and chatter the same set of dreamy things while being in the flow of things!!!)

Suddenly you strike gold. A radio-jokey is carrying on with his usual business of engaging audience in providing Delhi with real-time traffic situations. On this particular occasion this guy, I don't remember his name, calls up this radio station and advises not to use a road beside Talkatora Stadium. The whole things blows out as jokey suggests widening of roads (ofcourse to get rid of not so existing traffic problems, half of them are made up in mind.) and the guy gets enthusiastic and wishes to share his lovely life. He paints it fancy like this -

"सर हालत इतनी भी बुरी नहीं है. मैं बहुत मज़े करता हूँ. और ट्रैफिक भी ठीक ही है, एकदम स्मूथ! पुलीस भी काम कर रही है आजकल.  पर सर मैं अपनी लाइफ को शेयर करना चाहता हूँ."

And then he goes -

"ओह! बॉस मेरी लाइफ बहुत ही मस्त है! एकदम फंटास्टिक! मैं बहुत खुश इंसान हूँ. Happy-go-Lucky! मैं रात को किसी की भी शादी-पार्टी मैं घुस जाता हूँ. मैं अच्छा सूट-बूट पहनता हूँ और बिल्कुल भी नहीं शर्माता. एकदम नोर्मल बिहेव करता हूँ. Decent. मैं पार्टीज में जम के खाता-पीता हूँ और फुल मज़े मारता हूँ. और-तो-और ऐसी ही एक पार्टी मैं मैंने बंदी भी पटा ली! Love Is Life. (...poetic!!!) उससे ही शादी की और अब हम एक छोटा और सुखी परिवार है!!!"

He blurts  it out so innocently and in such a funny way that it's impossible to control that laugh and I even want to share it with more people.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

A Sunday Morning Rain

A Shikara in a lake in Kashmir.
Courtesy: BOMBMAN on Flickr | License: CC BY 2.0


He suddenly wakes up at 3:45 AM after a 'once in a while' timely sleep, following a dream sequence probably echoing some scene from the early mornings of hostel life. Soon he is enjoying a not much anticipated rainfall, while reading, browsing, munching; waiting for hands of clock to spread apart vertically.

At 6 he takes to the street to go for his morning walk. Sky is perfect azure, winds blow mild, figs cover the drenched asphalt, yellow and green alike. Sun efforts hard to break through the rebelling wet cotton puffs scattered through the sky. Pink-purple Bougainvilleas shudder to the breeze, while water drips down the asbestos roofs across the yellow walls of a secluded primary school and Moneyplant clings to the shoots of an overgrown shurb. A gunny bag flies down the 4th floor house. In the garden, green carpet entices the eyes as a young ladette wiggles hips; circling the track, pacing ahead of a large crowd of wailing elderlies and lame fat con mans carrying their own weights!

All the while he is eyeing beauties, trying their hands on steerings of some hatchbacks with a red-tape 'L' pasted across pretty sizeable portion of the windsheild, he is still not able to get off his mind some lines he came across in a Facebook note, about Kashmir encounters, earlier. Here goes a part of it -
"...Kids carry death in their school bags
Evening brings news, always
A white shroud, blood smeared
Like the blood of a slaughtered lamb
On the virgin snow
And a school bag
Inside, a report card

Teacher’s remarks:

This kid has a bright future
....
....
....
Kam gul-badan, metzchi andar ...
What tulips! One with earth, six feet under ...

Desolate mothers sipping heart attacks
In their pink tea
Fathers breathing cancer in their tobacco
Trying in vain
To accelerate the time..."
You may be able to access the complete text, by Mehran Qureshi, at the following link - Kashmir Is Taken!

Back home the guy tries to form an opinion and have an insight into things of higher order. What makes Maoists rise against the state? Why do people rebel at a G20 meet in Toronto? Why does China faces conflicts despite spectacular growth rates? What makes Thailand come to street?...

Anyways he is normal soon, digging Earth of a potted plant and asking it if it needs cold water, even after rain it is contnuing summer in New Delhi. Would a mud-pack heal its cuts or beautify it? Looking at Facebook responses, he is happy to have got 6 likes for his status and is looking for a mild afternoon nap post a Star Wars clip, since fantasy can be fascinating...

Some of you may like this - "Audioslave - Be Yourself".