Ride of my lifetime

A ten-hour journey from Hyderabad to Pune may not seem like that much of an experience, but let me remind you, this was in the times when there were no A/C / VOLVO buses nor any express highways(somewhere in the  late 80’s). One look at my bus  “Deccan Beauty” gave it all away.

This beauty had travelled millions of miles and still is being coaxed and goaded by the owner “please,one more trip and then you can rest in peace.”Literally,squeezing the last ounce of oil,metal and mileage from it. If there were any rules for bus abuse, then the owner of the bus would have been behind bars.

As soon as I find my window seat in the middle of the bus, I am greeted by ten to fifteen baby cockroaches. I was sure the mother cockroaches have been residing in this palatial house of theirs and feeding off on guests like us!!

 I sit down and the bus driver pulls away.  The inevitable of course happens next. Its what I call "the Battle of Seat”. The passenger next to me is a huge ,dark guy (with his head tonsured fresh from Tirupati) and is almost occupying one third portion of my seat  .I squeeze in and try to make some space for myself by using my elbow and wanting to place it on the hand rest  but I knew I was fighting a losing battle.The BALD PLATE won and I resigned to my fate.I could see the triumphant smile on his face.

I suddenly felt a jolting pain in my rear.I was still wondering what was responsible when the BALD PLATE chuckled and revealed that the seat was damaged and a spring jutted out  from my seat and found a cosy space in my bum!!OUCH,I didn’t pay for this extra pleasure.This was the typical “Insult to injury”.This bus ride just turned into the longest and most grueling ride of my life.

Did I mention that the massive pot holes in the road lift you from your seat continuously and we are actually half the time  jumping and landing on our seats and the laps of other passengers? But I took heart in earning a window seat, that’s a privilege which every Indian wants to have. I start to enjoy my privileges,look out of the window when a massive tree branch reaches in the window and whacks me across the head. This is just the first 30 minutes of the bus ride.The Bald plate had enough entertainment already(at my expense)

About two and a half hours into the ride, my bladder is holding three litres of liquid (at least that’s how it feels). I request the driver for an unscheduled stop but he cares two hoots for customer plight.He increases the spped and mentions that the bus will stop in another 30 minutes. So what does a VERY desperate guy do in such a situation I am desperate at this point and have to handle this tight situation.I take a deep breath and brace myself up and control my bladder to the fullest extent.I keep saying “Don’t let go,don’t let go,once you let go then there is no stopping the tsunami of 3 litres of urine.”

 My body won’t let me “go” because it knows I’m not in the proper setting to relieve myself. At this point I am feeling beyond desperate, but my body knows better, and I just can’t go.Thankfully,the bus stops at a station and there is a mad rush to get down.I take utmost care to avoid this mad rush lest someone presses my bladder and I end up relieving my 3 litres in the bus!!

The biggest relief and joy of my life was experienced in a toilet of a remote place between Hyderabad and Pune while I was emptying my bladder.No joy could ever replace that…

I firmly decide  not to drink any fluids in the rest of my journey.I was not interested in buying any snacks at the bus station because I was interested in winning my "Battle of Seats – second edition".I rush back to my seat and firmly place my hand on the hand rest and wait for the Bald Plate.He returns and returns with eatables that could be measured in tonnes!! I am quietly smiling on my smart move when he does the unexpected. He offers me a packet of chips and samosas and I melt. My hand quietly moves away from the hand rest and gives its rightful owner the space to rest.I munch away on the chips and relish the local made samosas. Thats the bribe he paid for the hand rest,I reason…

 Three more hours go by and Deccan Beauty pulls into a main city station. People are grabbing at me through the window to sell me snacks and random toys. One man in particular did not stop hounding me to buy a wooden flute.(how did he know my name was Krishna??)  “I don’t want a flute,” I suddenly realize- “I want a toilet!” I turn to the bus driver and ask, “How long will you be stopping for, Mr. Bus Driver?” He looks at me and grumbles “The bus will leave in ten minutes.”

I jump out of the bus door. “Toilet,toilet!”(the samosas finally had their effect on me,looks like some food poisoning !!). I yell to whoever looks my way. “TOILET! WHERE IS THE TOILET! ANYONE?” Finally, the annoying flute vendor points in the direction of the toilets which is one hundred meters away. I make a mad dash for it. When I finally make it to the toilets, there is a man in front of the stalls telling to pay two rupees. CRAP! This man was wasting crucial time. Then I remember I shoved two rupees in my pocket before I left. Luck is finally on my side. I hand the man the two rupees and run to the toilet blocks. First room, locked. Second  room, locked. Third … forth … fifth … sixth room, locked! Finally, the last rooml is open! I pull down my pants, and … reeeelease!! This is what I call complete satisfaction. I finish and quickly pull up my pants.. I quickly dash across the station towards the bus. I only have five seconds left until the bus leaves. The bus driver honks the horn, which means that it is just about to leave, I run so fast that I could have definitely given Carl Lewis a run for his money.I manage to catch it in the nick of  time.

Now, it was getting dark and after all that I went through, I needed some rest and sleep. But with the Bald Plate around, would I get such pleasures of life? He was already snoring and had converted my right shoulder as a make-shift pillow. His head was resting on my shoulder and I could feel the dead weight of his head. Did it have sand in it??I tried pushing him away but he was beyond my strength. Rest of my night was spent in bearing the weight of a sleeping man’s head and enduring the ferocious snores of my worst co-passenger in my entire life.

I thanked my stars when I saw my Pune the next morning. Finally,I was saved from this nightmare.I quickly collected my bags and without giving another look to the Bald Plate,got off from Deccan Beauty and swore that I will walk all my way but not board another  bus for any long distance journey. Abhi BUS, no more BUS!!!

Why behave responsibly always?

I am sure everyone can relate to their childhood that had no worries and no responsibilities. If you had responsibilities, they usually were-  getting the morning milk bottles (the bottles have now long been replaced with pouches)from the nearest milk booth, giving a helping hand to your mother in carrying her veggies and grocery bags and the biggest and most irritating of all - doing your homework.

Carefree - You never thought about saving money, planning for your future, or paying bills. Life was about playing outside with your friends, going for monthly movies (as a kid I used to wait for my staple Jeetendra – Sridevi movies)and being with your family .  Life was simple and everything seemed easy. The reason that everything seemed easy for me is, because of the environment that my parents raised me in. We had a nice government quarter, in a safe neighborhood with lots of kids around. We could ride our bikes as far as our legs would take us, climb hills and roam the neighborhood well after the sun had set.( we were still not exposed to computers!!). I am so thankful for my childhood memories, and for the way that my parents provided for me. As I get older I see how difficult it is to provide that type of childhood for the next generation children.

Future ready - There is a lot effort and sacrifice that goes into providing security for your future. Sometimes I want to just freak out -  make the wrong choice, and buy huge on credit, spend too much( I am already guilty of that- my wife will vouch for it), and save very little for retirement. I want to make irresponsible choices like a 20 something year old, and not make smart retirement choices like a 40 year old that would be planning and distributing my funds in equities, mutual funds, term insurances, medical insurance..the list is exhaustive..

What about you, have you ever wanted to forget about your frugal ways, and splurge? Have you ever wanted to stop being responsible, and just live irresponsibly? Have you ever shut your mind off so that you didn’t have to listen to those responsible voices? Ask yourself this question – “  If I can make one irresponsible decision, what will it be?"

Driving Mad

I would like to share my struggle , not for freedom , but of learning car driving. The reality check of public transport system  in Mumbai -  the local trains don’t have space left anymore for humans unless you are allowed to sit on someone’s lap, the public buses are not in plenty and the auto drivers don't always oblige you to drop you at your destination

One fine day I decided – “Enough is enough, I will now buy my own car and get my independence from the public transport system .” I always thought driving a car was a child's play and would learn to drive in a jiffy.(lady driver next door was big enough prick on my male ego).

 I went to the nearest driving school and enrolled . The driver came with an old Maruti 800 the same day and I happily sat on the driver's seat and started driving as per his instruction. The one hour of driving lesson per day included fifteen minutes of tea break for the instructor,ten mintues of waiting for the other co-learners.That day,I drove the car and found that it was really easy, the brakes were being applied even though I didn’t do a thing.I came home and told my wife about how easily I could drive. My bubble burst when my friend revealed the secret to me that it was the driver who was controlling the car as he had a separate set of clutch and brakes on his side.

I continued learning for three more days in that old Maruti and my instructor then asked me to practice in my new car. And I did so without any hesitation. One week of continuous pressure on the clutch,brakes,gears and tyres finally took its toll and the first free service of my new car was done within 20kms.This is a record that still stands on my name at the service center.

My instructor gave me another heart breaking news that I was dreading from the time I joined. I had the driving test the next day and I had to go to the RTO. The next morning,I said my prayers, got all the wishes from the near and dear ones.I was ready for the battle. The inspector and the instructor were waiting for me.

The inspector sat next to me and the driver was at the back seat.As soon as I started the car, 'Zoom ' it went. The car just shed its inertia and took off like an aeroplane. My instructor was shouting to control the car. Somehow, the car landed on the tarmac after a perfect take off.I passed the flying test and failed the driving test. The instructor’s proud record of having 100% record of his wards passing the test was shattered to pieces by me.

 The second time I took the test, the inspector  remembering his near-death experience ,didn’t fail to put on his seat belts(whispered his prayers too!!) . I drove very carefully and was quietly confident of clearing the test till the inspector dropped the bombshell – “Reverse the car and park the car between the two cars”.I looked helplessly and was hoping to get some help from my instructor but to no avail.I tried to reverse but the car would come to a stuttering halt.The inspector waited patiently for half an hour before he failed me again.

The third attempt was even more miserable , I could not start the car twice. I felt really humiliated and very sad. I thought car driving was not my cup of tea.

As with all the labor intensive business processes, I decided to outsource this process too. I appointed a driver paying him a good salary. He was obedient in the beginning and as is the norm, gradually became the undisputed owner of the car. He would listen to music that he liked(we used to have silent tug of war of the music channels, the frequent shuffling of the channels was tiring),used to switch on the AC while waiting for me at my workplace and wasted the precious natural resource – petrol(I also had a reason to believe that he was siphoning off the fuel from the tank). I changed the driver but the experience didn’t change.

The end of my story is not surprising. The Santro Zing , that I had bought with such hopes is lying in my garage with no takers. And to add to my woes, I am still paying the EMI for it.

And the final nail in my coffin, my neighbors are very curious to know why I was not driving the car any more (they had watched me learning in my area). I dare not reveal to them that I had failed thrice.(I had taken the oath from my wife too)

Nowadays , I use public transport system - the local trains,the buses and auto rickshaws and reason with myself and others of the need to reduce the carbon foot print . My respect (envy is the right emotion) for car drivers has increased many fold.

Dawn

My back is stiff. My arms are aching. But I sat there, looking at the monthly operations report, forcing myself to work. What was I doing at this hour in the office? The clock was showing ten in the night. My wife has already called me twice reminding me that there is a home and that’s where I should be at this hour.

"Some more time." I plead to my wife. I sit down with a coffee mug that will take care of my spinning head (fully aware that my acidity will further worsen)

I ask myself. "Why doesn't my mind wander away to the more beautiful things in life, the happy childhood days that were so carefree? “Why does it always have to be WORK!!!?"

My team has always delivered the results and that too in pinch situations. My Business Head trusts me with all the critical projects that come his way and we have never given him a chance to complain. The ratings, increments and promotions have been coming along in regular frequencies. There is no reason to feel dejected but still I was not feeling a sense of accomplishment.Why?

It is 1.30am and I am already delayed from the promised time to my wife.I close my laptop, drawers, pack my bag and trudge out of my office. I say my “good morning” to the security staff and start walking towards my car. I see the moon in its full glory, can’t remember the last time I enjoyed such moments with my family.

I looked all around. The world looked much beautiful. Somewhere, far away, I could see lights. I presume that must have been another workplace where people like me are working  away at their PCs. As I looked at the road that ran in front of our office, I slowly kept my palm on the wall. Tiny droplets of water had formed on the wall, which I touched.  I wanted to feel it again. I touched it again. It was the most wonderful feeling. I wondered why I don't do these things often.

I decide to stay there till sunrise. I called my wife and inform her of my decision to stay back. She grumbles and complains that this is becoming a habit now. I promise her that this is the last time I will ever be late (she must have given a wry & resigned smile!!)

I take a walk in the office campus which is quite huge. I see a dog (that has made our campus its home) wagging its tail without any expectations. It’s happy to see another living being. It decides to follow me. I keep walking till I reach the end of the campus. I see some security guards stationed to guard the campus and strike a conversation with them. One of them is a strong Sardar with a starched moustache. I ask him – “How do you find life in an alien place away from your homeland?” He replies “Sir, need to do this for sustaining my family”. He then goes on to narrate his story of how he started off as an army soldier, went up the ranks of a Subedar and had to take a voluntary retirement due to an injury sustained in a mortar attack in J&K. He then got this job, away from his family,  giving up his family home in Punjab, living in a small one room in a Mumbai suburb!!For what? His family!!

I broke into tears thinking about my own plight. I hated the fact that I existed. Why am I going through this entire trauma? Am I making a difference to this world in a positive way? What is holding me here? The money?. The passion for marketing? The feeling that I would be isolated if I didn't work late hours?. I don't know. I am still searching for the answers.

 Then, suddenly out of nowhere, images of my family came into my mind.  My dad, who had taken care of the family since I remember him. In fact, since I remember anything. My mom who would not have slept even a little bit, if I would come late from a party. And my wife, who loves me immensely(I have not been able to show it to her in a quantifiable way) ,  misses me when she doesn't get to talk to me.

"I am not alone" I shout.  "I have this beautiful world to live in, with beautiful people in it"

I lovingly stroke my new found friend which is still following me with its tail wagging. Then I see the sun breaking from behind the clouds and then I see it in its full glory. At dawn, it dawns upon me that there are a lot of such beautiful things within and around us that need to be discovered, experienced, shared with your loved ones.

Can’t wait to get back to my wife and discover love, happiness, contentment all over again.

Cheers to the new dawn of my life!!

My Struggle for fitness

I wake up one morning to find that I’m having trouble getting into my favourite jeans.
I think the pants have shrunk somehow but the weighing machine disagrees, as
does my double chin, so I decide on getting into shape. I go searching for health and fitness books that will help me to regain the lost shape. I start reading all the books one by one and  cajole(wanted to write "order" - but could not muster enough courage) my wife to make some exciting munchies to go with the reading. At the end of it all, the result – I add another 2 Kilos of girth around my shapeless body.

 I define my mission statement -" Lose weight,Build muscles and fit into my favourite jeans within 3 months"

My friends recommend a more active approach, like joining a gym,
so I do. The next Sunday was well spent at the nearby Reebok stores.I purchase all the relevant gear – sleeveless T-Shirts( tight one – that will remind me of the extra fat has to be lost),a track pant and jogging shoes to complete the training kit.A trendy water bottle is the final impulse purchase(so much of sweat that needs to be replenished with sweet lime juice!!)

Next day at the gym – I get intimidated with all the Arnold Schwarzeneggers ,Samsons flexing their muscles, pumping iron and flaunting their chiseled bodies.I rue the decision of wearing my sleeveless T-shirt that showcase my extra fat with muscles hidden somewhere down below.I gingerly walk up to the trainer and tell him of my “Mission statement”. He smiles at me and loads me onto the treadmill. He punches in a few buttons and the treadmill starts purring into action.Technology is so good,I wonder. I start with a slow walk and the auto-program increases the speed and I see myself jogging at 8km/hr speed.I notice the person next to me running at 12km/hr.The male ego in me prompts me to increase the speed to 12km/hr.I start running ,now the motion gets uncontrollable and don’t knpw how to stop this technology!!I shout for help and before the trainer can respond,I end up falling on my rear.Thud!!I have broken my tailbone(it is called the Coccyx injury),says my doctor. So much for the technology.

It takes me a few more months to recuperate and to my horror,I find, I have added a few more kilos.

My wife suggests a more safe and natural remedy – jogging in the open - traditional way.

I wake up at six the next morning, put on a track suit and hit the road, The nip in the morning air gets me charged.I love this outdoor jog.Barely have I crossed our society limits,I am chased by the stray dogs.I run for my dear life.The dogs are not wanting to give up.One of the dogs is now snapping at my heels.Some people see this grave danger and manage to shoo away the canines.A lucky reprieve.My legs are still shivering with fright.Enough of these outdoor morning jogs, I declare.

The next morning, I drive to the nearby park and start my light stretches before starting my jog. In one of the stretches, I hear something snap in my thigh. I limp back to my car and pay another visit to the doctor. He is enjoying this sudden increase in his income that coincided with my efforts to regain fitness. The Doc gives his diagnosis – it’s a hamstring injury.

It hurts to even walk, so I turn to dumbbells for getting some muscles in shape.I bend to pick up the weights and my back gives!!Now, its hurting even to stand.I end up on the bed(the doc this time has given me a discount based on the frequent flyer points I accumulated)

Another month of rest and I have already used up my quota of sick leaves.My mission statement now looks like a vague, wishful statement.

Now, the advice is Swimming.It is good for the back and it is a wholesome exercise, opines my friend – Sudesh. Another visit to the Reebok stores and I am the proud owner of goggles, swimming trunk, ear plugs and the shower cap. Next morning,I visit our society swimming pool.I somehow maneuver into my trunks and jump in at the deep end. It takes Sudesh and two more people to get me out of the water and four more to resuscitate me. I survive,again!!

Now, the mission statement is very clear. I am sure you guys can second guess it

Buy new jeans!!!