Gap

A bus travelling through vast fields.
Courtesy: World Bank Photo Collection on Flickr | License: CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Late winter , air was still cold and dry. One would shiver given the harsh environment. They had begun gathering and load luggage in the bus. Meeting and greeting every new-comer. There are smiles and chatter all around but his is an anxious soul. He has made some plans for the trip but he could hardly include his fancies. As the night grows deeper, people start boarding the bus and taking up seats.

He is early to board and blocks two seats. As she enters the bus, he can do little to stop himself from wishing her to sit beside him. But as she takes a seat two rows away from him, not even recognizing his presence, he becomes a bit more sullen and decides to go to a lonely corner window seat in the back of the bus. He unconsciously wishes no one to be aside him and spontaneously, in his brain, decides to keep everyone away.

As the front seats in bus are no longer available, this damsel thin and clad quite candidly takes the seat beside him. Without being asked he tells her, "I am not closing the window, even when the bus is at full speed." She simply nodes and shrugs her shoulders and leans back in the seat while talking to a figure in bus's corridor. He keeps silence. Bus jostles and makes slow movement on city streets. The wind is hurting him, but he is adamant. He can still bear it as the city is still warm and his jacket is thick.

He is deep in thought. By now the bus is on city outskirts and moving swiftly as traffic has now dwindled down. The winds are coarse and blunt. He braves them in the face, keeping his pride intact. His back towards his co-passenger, he is not aware of the discomfort being caused to her. Suddenly, he feels a hand on his shoulder. He is suddenly mild and no more rigid, she whispers, "Please, close the window". Making no arguement, he just closes the window silently trying to plug the gaps that might leak wind to her. He is careful, yet aware not to let it be evident. Through the night he gazes at her, making just mild talk. His brittle surface giving into a warm interior.

By the day break, bus has reached its destination. The party is supposed to move to the train for their journey onwards. The hustle-bustle is back again. The night's silence lost. And the companions having moved as swiftly as they had come together just for a journey amongst hundreds of days. Train honks as the orange-red sun begins to warm the Earth on South-Eastern horizon...

Enigma : A Journey From School Days

Image courtesy : joaquinuy on Flickr, check usage terms before using the image.

Bus treads rapidly on National Highway 58 enroute Mussorie form Delhi. It is a dark night and guys (and gals) are having nice time in the back rows of the bus - chattering, pranking, giggling, tricking and yup for some it is nothing but looking out in the dark to sight any possible trace of light. Others enjoy toying around with their newly acquired gadgets - mp3s, walkmans, discmans, handheld gaming devices and more means of amusement, which certainly are objects of begrudge from many.

A very fond topic of discussion earlier that night had been Mallika Sherawat of newly released Murder fame. Nishant would brag telling "x times I have seen that movie including y times with parents accompanying me". As the discussion heats up and more guys come with their inputs it becomes ravishingly entertaining to listen to all these stories, most of which can easily be judged innocent fibs, with the added effect of the yellow overhead lights (...this is certain that during journeys most good things happen in yellow light or total dark, and I wonder how beautiful that bus would have looked from one of the fields in the western UP with light errupting from square windows of a moving rectangular box...)

About three hours up Red Fort, Delhi (the place where probably Prime Minister, yes certainly he only gives speech to the whole country on an appointment which is universal in nature yet not so ordinary) across Ghaziabad, Hindon and several adjoining dingy and exceptionally disgraceful townships, which to most do not mean anything but termite-hills harboring swarms of drone labour forces which find substitute in keeping the movement of the industrial work-horse running in one of most urbanized region of world's largest democracy, the bus breaks its movement to let its riders have a break and fill their bellies or gulp down a few bottles of world's favourite soft drinks. Still some are blessed enough to find better and more demanding activities, one or two of which essentially goes against centrally propogated agenda of gender-equity. Going by my reccommendations you must not think at all and have a look around to find a few white-birds falling over each other, while crude folk music (...there is certain something with women echoeing musculine baritones and bold attitudes while flutes and more such aboriginal and native add-ons accompany them in their endeavours...) plays on the cashier's blackbox of probably 1980s.

Back in the bus I sit exactly in the middle of backseat, having a clear view of all the black figures, hands and legs falling out of the seats' defined boundaries, and the road ahead. Yet it is so boring until I barter Sankalp's walkman for the seat that I occupy. It is a win-win situation as I get to stand in the bus, a nice excuse to eye every secret crush of yours. Not long you enjoy the whole thing that you are told that a front seat is unoccupied, and even with that disgrunted thought and look it is a bliss when you press the play button and a distant but extremely pleasing, feminine and very mystic voice asks you to close your eyes and prepare for a meditation trip. You don't think much as you actually don't have anything to care for and the lovely voice and drum's mild beatings are hypnotizing and you are drawn to the instructions being communicated to you (...wonder if it is some sort of brain wash...). This being my first introduction to ENIGMA, one of the most celebrated electronic music enterprise. I can not remeber if it was 'Mea Culpa' or 'Sadness' that made me an ardent follower.

A large part of remaining journey is spent in cabin with Chetan and few others while driver and helper maneovure bus on very busy stretches of this 2 lane highway up the haunted district of Meerut towards Roorkee, Haridwar and then the Doon valley. We continue to devour that diesel smell that certainly acted anaesthetic to me and I just remember waking up next to Sargam or may be Aakash but certainly at the left most window corner of the full last seat. Between Dehradun and Mussorie most of us feel nauseated as the bus zig-zags on the roads engulfing lower Shivaliks, very close to the edge as if considering a homicide to ultimately make it to the headlines, like a concrete Anaconda. Feeling difficult to control I just puke, like many others, just about 2km from the final destination. Bus's engine grunts, pained by the load it carries while I sympathize with it feeling embarassed on my own act of vomitting, but certainly enjoying the toffies that came to me to supress more of it...

Mango Pickle

Image courtesy : madpai on Flickr, check usage terms before using the image.

A sudden jerk shakes containers that lie parked in yard at Hazrat Nizammudin railway station in Delhi. The 6 year old is inquisitive figuring out which of the two trains, one in which he is sitting or the goods train beside, is moving.

Soon he is more interested in the mango pickle, that his Mama got packed in the tiffin for the night. He is not very much interested in the food, but mango pickle is his favourite; even with the sore throat. He prevents both his Mama and Dad from having even a single piece of vitamin A and C rich delicacy. He literally enters into quarrel with mamu, who incidentally happens to be his another favourite and very fondly pats him on the back even to this date.

Night passes calmly in that train berth with yellow flickering lights and noisy fans. The morning dawns bright and lanky kid continues to stick his head at the window rail while vendors continue to scream to make a living. He is adamant and continues to take notes of descending numbers, 267/45, 267/44, 267/43... that appear on each passing pole on this route to Indore city in the state of Madhya Pradesh.

At Nagda junction, the engine would shunt and train would move in reverse direction after a break of about 20 minute. Mamu would use this opportunity to prank the guy that the driver is annoyed so we are returning back and the guy would still be happy thinking it to be another opportunity to be in the train for 12 more hours. Meanwhile train would gather pace and switch tracks rapidly, producing melanchonic music of its own kind.

Guy sticks his head out again and this time will exclaim with bright glowing eyes that a diesel engine is pulling the train, unlike the electric locomotive in the morning. He always liked it when the snail like train took a long curve, blowing dirt from rubble clad tracks in the Malwa plateau region. An ecstatic yellow milk drink at Ujjain made this 850 km long journey worth it and a temple sits graciously atop the hill just outside Dewas city, famous for a Reserve Bank Of India printing facility. Indore is an altogether different story, a ride in Premier Padmini, with a PAL logo decorating its steering, to Massi's place is an unparalleled luxury...

The story is not complete but journey part is over and what remains is more sugary!

Multiple Lives

Image courtesy : phillipC on Flickr, check usage terms before using the image.

Nov 28, 2008 – Semester - I has ended and we have decided to leave Jaipur at the earliest. Having cleared all the balances and settled things we leave for the bus as Dudi boss threatens to accompany us all the way till Delhi and I poke fun at him, knowing deep inside me that he will not. Journey is casual one with my friends receiving calls and I simply waiting for them to be free and meanwhile checking out scenes on the road and around. In no time, time runs specially fast when you wish it to be slow, we are at midway Behror. Large LCD is beaming time lagged videos of Mumbai Under Siege. Its day 3 of financial capital of nation being held captive by some 10 terrorists as defence forces try to allay them. The scenes of choppers air-dropping troops on roofs of multi-story concrete apartments is thrilling, despite the chilling reality of several lives being at risk. A generation fond of playing Call Of Duty, Medal Of Honor though aware of the gravity of situation can’t help but enjoy the adrenalin rush, impulses the repeated telecast of videos gives. The lack of information make it seek more and as always it is fun to sulk at some other “ideology”, probably a way of establishing our superiority and thus feeding our egos. Meanwhile the second half of the journey continues and its a lazy one, in the later part Avi and I are chatting a lot, looking at the high rises of Gurgaon and changing seats just for fun. DK is my destination. Wait there till Tan and Shaily leave. An auto takes me to home, family still don’t know that I am coming back. As auto stops at a red-light in Delhi cantt I enjoy a short game of “catch-catch” with boys in school bus beside me. Since all the paper balls the boys had fall on the road we had to discontinue and I was once again thinking, is Delhi actually that bad as projected by the crap media reports daily morning in newspapers and TV news. At home, as I wait for my plate of Paranthas, it is all gory videos of blood and wrath at the Taj Mahal hotel, The Oberoi and CST massacre. Every channel is beaming its own theory of attack and the saga continues. The first week of vacations passes seeking more and more info about the incidents and yup planning our maiden outing in Delhi; the Adventure Island trip. Remembering those who paid for human insensitivity exactly 10 months ago I close this post, wishing justice to be brought to a city which certainly is unbeatable in many senses and rivals Delhi excellently.

Journey Or Disaster

04:54, you wake up out of a 2 hour nap, and a rather unrealistic dream that you were fighting with co-passengers for single available charging port on the bus, to learn something not cool! You have actually ended up in something you wanted to avoid, 65 km from Delhi, somewhere in the state of Haryana. A traffic jam that all my imagination and logic told me was nothing short of remaining 65 km, bringing NH-8 to a halt and throwing life out of gear in major parts of NCR.

08:10, another 2 hours of nap, can’t do anything but dreaming and avoiding the views of caravans of trucks, coaches and cars. A marker tells me Delhi – 64 km, simple maths explains we travelled 1 km in some 3 hours on one of the best highway in country, the Golden Quadrilateral. Reason being 2 days of continuous rain in north-west. An infrastructural embarrassment, one can say!

10:54, the bus and traffic around is running down the DG Expressway, you expect to reach Dhaula Kuan in 15 minutes but more trouble is in store. Out of order traffic signals near Western Air Command and other military bases act as final trouble makers extending the travel time to harassing 2 hour. Meanwhile the moron on seat behind, keeps on updating his people about the disaster he was going through every 10 minutes.

A normal 6 hour journey turns in 12.5 hour disaster as the fate of road users is left on the mercy of rain-gods by civic authorities and work is not done perfectly.

Journeys In Memory - I

Image courtesy : pablo72 on Flickr, check usage terms before using the image.

Its evening around 5, Sameer is supposed to call me to pick him up from Hari Nagar Clock Tower bus stand as we have to catch 6’0 clock train to Jaipur from Delhi Cantt railway station. Since he has not called yet I call him up and he hangs up saying that he will call back on reaching the location. Around 5:30 and he calls me, I rush to pick him up and we reach my home to take my luggage. We get a rickshaw to the station and reach there well in time. At station Shaily is waiting, with her parents, for us to join her. We share hellos and talks as our parents are busy talking and engrossing us in their discussions and advices for forthcoming winter season in Jaipur. As the train comes we hurrily board it, grab our reserved seats and arrange our luggage. We have to pick up Tanvi from Gurgaon station. The journey till Gurgaon passes sharing random talks and looking out for lights in the darkness spread around the tracks in western out-reaches of city of Delhi.

At Gurgaon station I, rather we, lookout for lovely, chirpy Tan. Didn’t want her to be left behind as I suppose it will be a boring journey without her. Even get ready to call her as am not able to make her out in the crowd outside. Suddenly she emerges from the crowd with her father helping her with the luggage. Train moves even before Tan is able to arrange her luggage or any of us helped her with the stint? As soon as things settle we are busy talking endlessly, topics being airports, stations, refineries or whatever was visible outside the window and random discussions on some very vague topics and events of vacations. Many co-passengers come and go and we even have to share our reserved seats many times. As we enjoy the journey train has hustle-bustle mainly because of people asking for stations to come and their talks among themselves. We miss some games we could play in case we had cards with us and have to be with the fact that phones will no longer play FM and may not be in network coverage.

Meanwhile I had to get to the end of the compartment just one cabin beside ours’ to ask two guys there to put off their cigarettes as I and Tan were disturbed because of the smoke but she was reluctant to tell the problem. But looking at the expressions on her face and somewhat forced efforts to control breath to avoid that allergic air I could make out that she was not comfortable and even it was getting on my nerves too. So I was able to make my mind and talk to these people and they suggested me to open the train door and thankfully this did the trick as the fast blowing wind jets could easily clear the air and we could breathe easy now.

The later part of journey was quite silent as we were falling short of words to share a lot with us and were even tired of talking endlessly. At Jaipur station we look out for way out as we struggle with our luggage. Outside the station we are pleased to find an auto at nominal charges as 12:30 is quite late in the night with all the luggage around. I talk almost zero as the auto moves towards the institute and am pretty busy matching the roads with my memories of past about 2 months, generally because of rides around several Jaipur stretches with this guy called Akash Burania.

Back in hostel I put my bag and since am not feeling sleepy, make a move to Sameer’s room in hostel 6. We pass time talking to each other, Sameer’s room-mates and Mridul and I also reply to Tan’s SMS before she takes leave to sleep. As all are exhausted and want to sleep I too go to my room and try to sleep but thoughts from journey and time spent Guddu and Shivani at Bangla Sahib Gurudwara earlier that evening and even the image of moon in black star studded sky that my eyes just caught in the mess courtyard while going to fill my water bottle continue to revolve in my mind ...

The day in best probability was Oct 12' 2008. Though it is immaterial!

Zip Zap Zoom - IV

What's new? Well this time I am the one riding! Its not Delhi but Jaipur, vehicle is neither a bike nor a scooter but Scooty Pep. Himanshu owns it and doesn't hesitate in passing me the keys of the vehicle though he knows its first hand experience for me. Abhinav and I get hold of the two-wheeler from back gate. I ask him to drive till the side lanes beside main gate, and after that I take hold of the vehicle and so begins the lovely journey. A round trip beside the railway tracks passing behind GT. We reach Saras Parour and enjoy the chocolate softies. I drive the vehicle out and reach the nearest fuel station, a top up of 20 bucks is fine for a ride. Quite confident now I take on the JLN Marg, moving on towards Gopalpura bypass, we take a little halt at Gandhi Nagar station. Further I drive the scooty through Tonk Phatak towards Crystal Palm, we do not stop there but decide to go for C-Scheme as we want to visit Crossword, book shop I came in first week of my Jaipur arrival about 8 months back, again. The place holds very good memories for me. I had bought a novel there, argued with Dhruv and enjoyed some food and Coke in the shack opposite to the book hub. I simply repeat the sequence as a ritual, this time I click the place too. Further we move and accidentally find Central Park, pass some time there and then ride beside Youth Hostel, Vidhan Sabha and Vit Bhawan. Here onwards I simply have no idea of ways but I know I will reach some place. The random ride leads me to Tonk Road where I simply drive towards Ajmeri Gate and get caught in a VIP mess at City Pulse. About 15 minute waste, further a U-turn from Ajmeri Gate and a left turn towards Albert Hall, back on JLN I drive fast and cool as I feel more free and relaxed. Reaching a top of about 75 kmph the whole 25 km ride was nice fun. I and Abhinav park it at the main gate and walk back to hostel sharing the earphones of mobile to listen music as I check the clicks we had managed...

Having not bathed whole day felt like shit so took plunge into water soon and it was crazy roaming all these hip, upmarket places in li'l too down market Tee and Pyjamas!

Jan 08' 2009 : Confusing Day

Image courtesy : Tall Chris on Flickr, check usage terms before using the image.

I wake up quite late at 9:20 am, going by recent standards of mine, only to find other fellows either still sleeping or engrossed in early morning teases like loud rock music, newspapers and such things. Having Ram Milan appointed for a post-lunch visit to Chaura Rasta, probably Jaipur's own veersion of Broadway, but unlike the Broadway in NYC it lacks theatres and performing art centres and is known for being a major whole sale market to cater to various needs of the city. I wait for time to pass meanwhile having proper bath and reading few more pages from my recent pick titled "N or M' by Agatha Christie. Around 1:30 in noon we leave for the mart. the bus ride reminds me of blue-lines of Delhi, rickety, over-crowded and grossly unruly but here they don't ride over you! We deboard at Ajmeri Gate and walk our way to the pre-thought shop! Having shopped for the stuff we needed, we take an auto-rickshaw back to our hostel in MNIT. Ram Milan shares with me his worries about choice of stream and concerns like having formed good friendship bonds in present section. Meanwhile a call from Abhishek in Delhi cheers me up as the whole day had passed minus messages or calls from friends. the call ends with me declaring to him a probable visit to Delhi in next week. Later we pass time watching "21", my third time, in Abhinav's room. I and Abhinav visit GT in evening and binge upon some burgers at McD. Buy some chocolates just to suppress the desire of taste of the caffine filled stuff, actually had seem thenm in movie! On way vack I make calls to friends in Bhopal and Mumbai, to feel later the hollowness of my life in the hostel room called "7/13, MNIT". Post dinner a part of me urges me to go to room number 56 while another wishes to go to 58, still another calls for 73 and one more is busy thinking about a special fiend in Girls' Hoste ltwo blocks away. Simultaneously other sections of brain keep on thinking about friendsin Roorkee, Pune, Delhi, Texas, California and more such locations across the globe. And still the brain has rationale to remind me of the mammoth task of completing submissions due on Monday and Tuesday. I try hard, complete 1/6 of my work and move to wash room to find gigantic Himanshu standing shirtless in a towel and washing clothes on this cold winter night. Am quite amazed to hear him ask me for clothes to wash. I come back to my room and scribble whole stuff on paper to take a lot of stuff off my mind and later form it into the blog post. Listen to music on room-mates Pc and fall asleep meanwhile...

Cricket, Brawl, Outing, Eyegrabbers...

Its 4:15 in the evening, I wake up after a 2 hour long nap in the noon. A notebook with some CSS code scribbled on it lies in front of me with a pen lying uncapped on it! I move to grab it, expecting to modify it a but, only to find Aman enter my house. We sit in the room sharing some talks HTML, analytics, adsense, hosting and all that crap. 15 minutes past it is Shrey joining us, with Divya Prakash following soon! Itsy-bitsy talks on vague issues like tracking mobiles, quantum physics, crime investigations and all that go on till 5:30, when we leave to play cricket in the field near my house. Teams are decided judging the "worth and reliability" of players! Field is set, umpire takes position. Five in a team and six overs to be bowled, everyone expecting his share of bowling. After two overs it is back to square one with a self-proclaimed bowler grabbing the ball to bowl his second spell! We still waiting for our turns with jaws-dropped! Another over and the ball still is out of our reach as the team must confine opponents in a defensible score. Well last over is gifted to one of the stragglers! And the other is convinced with a lollipop "first to bat" offer! First inning ends with a score of 44 in 6 overs, as the well experienced all-rounders toiled to keep the scores low! Innings two begins with a two defensive players on pitch! Ball 5 over one, for teams' sake a struggling batsman is declared "injured" and Sehwag of team walks down to the pitch and starts to script a "match-winning" performance! Wickets keep on falling and runs come in singles! Its last over and once again batting is "gifted" to "weak-links" of the team! Making the game a mockery, they expect a player to hit 19 off last 3 balls! Anyways result was expected! And off-course the poor soul, who was not allowed to ball as well as was declared injured was me only! Unable to control myself and not withstanding this stupid kind of dominance and bias, I called quit! The acts of some guys to control the whole team like puppets occurred to me real cheap. Uttering anger to myself and defending my decision I walk down the street to my home. Somehow I try to divert myself by thinking of an outing, but still anger and probably some jealousy is there! I reach my home and ask my sister to leave for an evening out, Bangla Sahib, District Centre (DC) or Cannaught Place (CP) come the suggestions. We decide to leave for DC, to check out some stuff in a book store and have some refreshments. I take a bath still not able to forget the cricket incident, looking the mirror I enquire myself, "What the hell do you think of yourself? You shit looking, lanky figure expect someone to give you ball and bat as a mercy. If you can not fight for your rights, why the hell you expect others to care for you? Better perform and fight or stay out of the field you are not fit into! But I did protest though it went unnoticed!" Soon we leave, firstly getting some money out of the ATM and then we take a ride to DC. At DC we straight go into the bookshop called "Wordsmith" and start shuffling from one to another books! That's a nice title lets check it out! Oh great cover. Yeah am an expert reader! Some titles, like "Why Men Like Bitches!", "A Girl's Guide To Kissing A Frog.", "Roads To Mussoorie.", were pretty interesting and caught attention. We selected 4 books and left the place! By now it is 8:45 and the place is bathed in lights! We decide to walk around the commercial centre and enjoy a little. Walking around dimly lit high-rises, notorious as "suicide point of west Delhi", checking out those neon lights of billboards and beautifully clad girls was a nice experience, though to my dismay most were with their boyfriends or family members! We wish not to leave but have to reach home soon! So we take our ride back and am back to my intovert self, talking to myself and thinking that "I am the in charge, everything is in my control" putting an end to week long conflicts with my own self that if am on the right track! Thanks my friends for pushing me back to those real life feelings of jealousy, angst, tension, competition, belief and the most important "Believe in yourself". I love you all! Thanks for such a nice evening, some time is now reserved for that Criminal Psychology novel I got!

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Down the Memory Lane

Image courtesy : mdiocuh galeals on Flickr, check usage terms before using the image.

Whole day on the Mall and now we are sitting in a restaurant in Shimla. Its quite evening but we are supposed to have early dinner as we are heading back to Delhi after a 8 day camp. Will not be discussing the camp at this moment as I believe that journeys themselves are far more interesting then destinations and this particular journey has a special place in my memories. At restaurant we were advised by our teachers to avoid going for binge eating as on way down the hills it may not be a good appetite but as always we are tempted by the sight of delicious food. We eat plateful and hop on to the bus, this one is a semi-deluxe unlike the Volvo we had arrived to the place in. And fortunately eat had windows that opened. I grab the seat on the last row just beside window and don't allow my friends to go for the window seat, even though they tried to persuade me in every possible manner. On the seat next to me sat a friend of mine, this girl is the one with whom we have shared a large part of our school life and have enjoyed very much. In some 30 minutes bus makes its initial moves while we all are chatting looking out of the window, some shutterbugs are interested in grabbing every possible second and preserving them so to be looked back in the future. As of me am very much trying to be happy as I know that the following day will be difficult to past because of some post travel pangs. The memories are hard to get around with and a feeling of something being lost captures you. Looking out of window I am feeling a bit uncomfortable now, the excess food, delicacies are proving to be troublesome. I ask my friend to allow me to open a little more window as I would be needing it very soon, but she seems uninterested. I warn her of the "consequences" but to no avail. the bus moves down the hills and paths that curve like some snake entwined to bark of a tree. My troubles grow and it is uncontrollable now so I go on vomit, and unfortunately a lot of the stuff falls on window rather going out of it. thankfully it is not on me and just a seat is wasted. I have no other option but to vacate the seat and go for some other options. Meanwhile I try to make her accept that its her fault but moreover not wishing to blame her. In hurry I throw my jacket out of the bus window, partially to grab some eyeballs, as it is human nature to try to be in limelight. Now I fumble the racks on the top of bus and get my bag. Use it as bedding and I have to spend whole night sitting in the bus's corridor. I miss those scenes out of the bus's window but thankfully in the bus there is a lot to check out. Many are still not able to sleep and busy in various activities. The guy who was sitting beside me seems to be troubled lot as he has to sit beside the shit! The other on the second last seat is busy listening to music on his walkman. Some are toying around with mobile phones and others are chatting in whispering mode! A senior is pleased to get a head massage from a senior girl! While for some am an amusement as they are consoling me by repeatedly offering help and other stuffs and asking questions like, "Why did you throw your jacket?". Night passes quite slowly and our teacher came to check twice or thrice in the mean time, and every time I had to wake up as I was lying in the corridor! Morning around 5, the sun has started to shine in distance on the Grand Trunk road. Those who had slept early are out of sleep now and are busy waking up others and speculating how much more time before we would reach the ISBT. The bus is rapidly traversing the distance and pesky smell at a landfill hints that we are in Delhi now. We start gathering various belongings. In 15 minutes, as we are saved from the usual traffic jams at the bypass, we are at ISBT. Off the bus we are collecting our baggages and helping others reach for theirs. Sir asks us to check out for conveyance back to home. And I decide to go for an auto ride with two girls who lived nearby. We get Rs. 100 as travel allowance but the rickshaw ride cost only 80 bucks. So we save 20. In the way we decide to use the money to have an ice-cream party, but the idea does not materialises actually and the Rs 20 remain with me as am the last one to get off the auto andhave to pay the bill...

The party is due and I will be more than happy to go for it, even if I have to pay the interests on the money!

Posh Living

Image Courtesy :Fikra on Flickr, check usage terms before using image. 

Recently I visited Council of Architecture, India Habitat Centre, Lodhi Road, New Delhi. The 45 minute bus ride brought back to me the memories of the days when my father used to take me out to places like Railway Museum, air Force Museum, Exhibition Grounds.... I could easily realise what I was missing for so much long a period of life. Beautifully paved vistas of Central Delhi in a sunny backdrop left me mesmerised. The cosmopolitan attitude of the area reminded of an era when country used to be more conservative. It could only be a possible site in Chankya Puri or Lodhi road to see a girl in her early 20s making splashes in her Bentley, a rare scene on Indian roads in any case. Newly erected bus stands and Delhi Metro's sign boards were giving a foresight into city's future, which is fast gearing up for its date with Common Wealth Games in 2010. At the same time couples cuddling each other in demure surroundings of Lodhi Gardens were justification enough for the Taj being in India. The environment at restaurants like Eatopia was enough to brave challenge from global biggies like Mc'D, simply on the firm basis of the fact that the crowd gathering at the place was far more hip, classy and lively. It can be amazing for anyone that still many of the front runners in managing the nation operate from beautifully crafted buildings of the region. The bureaucratic setup is intricated in the area's very being.

On many occasions only the fact that we want to be part of such a rich and posh way of living, we wish to inherit this great legacy is enough to boost peoples' desire to live and gives a feeling of being able to conquer the world....

Summer Day Out

 
Image Courtesy : World is beautiful on Flickr, check usage terms before using the image.

On June 08 '07, I got to venture out on Delhi's roads on scorching summer day. The blistering heat could make even the most enduring ones to run for cover.

I live in a bustling colony in western Delhi and had to go to Vastukala Academy, aside temples of educations IIT-Delhi and JNU, to collect result of architecture aptitude test.

So I got up a little early in the morning, expecting to finish my work and come back to home by 2'o clock in the afternoon. Having done with things like breakfast, etc. I ran out of home to catch bus that would leave me at Dhaula Kuan (DK) interchange. It was already 11:30, but I was enjoying the ride; as to passengers surprise the driver of the DTC bus was driving nicely and I could even spot a few good looking girls. Moreover summers are my favourite season, everything being hot, bright and windy. Sooner the bus reached DK and I got off it.

Now I was waiting for next bus to arrive, but to my dismay it was not a very pleasant experience because the Sun was shining harshly enough to melt the asphalt of roads. It was very panicking to stop and wait for a ride while the mercury soared to 44 degree Celsius and loo, hot seasonal winds, blew uncalmly.

To manys' respite the bus was there after about 10 long minutes. I hurriedly boarded it and was happy to find some shade. I found a seat and sat calmly sure that it will take at least 30 minutes before I reach my destination. Through the way I glanced the magnificent reformations the city was witnessing in a bid to prepare well for the Commonwealth Games 2010. The bus zoomed through bustling commercial areas and calm residential colonies of South Delhi. I was disappointed to see encroachments and dirty shanties just beside R.K.Puram, one of the most refined localities in the city. The bus took a turn to Vedant Desika Marg and my mind started reminding me of leaving the bus and as per my habit I de-boarded a stand before (more because of my fear of being lone one to leave and thereby ignored and taken to the next stop!).

So I was here in front of Physical Sciences Faculty of JNU. After waking down the lane about 200 metres I reached my destination and straight away asked the administrator to give my score card. He printed it immediately but as per "Indian tradition" didn't give it to me before another 1.5 hour, the reason being it was not signed by the head of the institution.

Soon I found that i was not the lone one waiting for the signs, but there was a bunch of about 8-10 students! Many others were waiting for there turn for exam. So I could pass time listening to them, having chats with few ones, planning about return, cursing the system and very pleasantly checking out the beautiful girls, etc.... But as the time progressed it was becoming difficult to bear the delay. And it all ended only when few guys started something like a little agitation (not the Rang De Basanti style, but just a simple negotiation). And now we had our score cards with us, at 89/200 my score was average considering the topper could manage only 117.

On my way back I had to walk about 500 metres before I could find a bus stand. Very annoyingly I had to hop onto the bus while it was still running. The rest of travel till DK was fine.

It was about 2:55 and the hot weather had started taking toll on me. With no snacks or drinks for last 3.5 hours I was feeling uneasy and in a hurry to reach home as early as possible. But the whole thing went wrong when I mistook route number 568 to 588 and boarded the wrong bus!

The bus this time was a real hell, the staff of bus was 4 people strong with each one smoking proudly (I hated them for this) and stopping the bus for uneasily long intervals of time. but it ended soon and I was on my way to home, on another bus followed by a 15 minute walk in scorching sunshine!

After reaching home I was happy and comforted as I could sit on my PC and enjoy playing the race game abbreviated as NFS-Most Wanted!

Let Me Share A Story

Image Courtesy : mattwi1s0n on Flickr, check usage terms before using image.

An old memory is repeatedly clicking in my mind, let me share it with you all out there and may be we will be able to recognize the fact- "What is told to us amd situations we go through have determinal effect in shaping our views..."
Summers of 2004 I had joined ICCAM summer camp for the first time, which that year was hosted at Youth Hostel, Mussouri, a Himalyan hill station. our group comprised of 22 students of class IX-XII. The second night of 9 day stay in Mussouri and there were huge rains and a characteristic power cut. The vehicle movement on highway passing in front of hostel had diminished because of late night and bad weather. Most of the group was fast asleep thanks to hectic schedule everyone had, but Ashish and his group was not in mood to sleep and was busy chatting, majorly jokes and teasers. Everything was usual till Bhandari got a glimpse of two red eyes glaring at him and his group from widespread dark outside the window. He was left dumbfallen and was too much horrified to speak anything. He didn't utter a single word till his friends shook him by hands. He in a confused tone asked them to keep quiet to avoid attention from spirit outside the window.The laughs and whispers of friends were replaced by deep silence.All of the four were highly teriffied to think anything meaningful and were perspiring in their beddings on that cold night.No one made any move, expect fearful shiverings, for next 15 minutes when a car zipped through the highway, precariously paved through the great lower Himalyas, flashing its lights on the trees in front of hostel room's window and thus revealing the ghost, which was nothing but a monkey who had taken shelter on trees to avoid heavy rains. Every one in the group heaved a sigh of releif and soon fell asleep. The next morning as they shared their story with everyone in the room, there were debates and disccussions on the existence of ghosts, exchange of personal experiences etc.
While some just enjoyed it as entertainment, others were more serious and some like me were busy seeking views of people and inviting others to share some thrilling stories of unearthly experiences!