Vokay readers, before you come to any conclusions about the tamizh (recently learnt about the usage of zh :D) title, i felt it is very appropriate to the post since it deals with a restless mind (or so my tamizh macha says)... You better be right about this KK..
The location of the story is our own college of engineering where i have spent a year. Introducing a cast; all of them amateurs...
Hero- Ravi ,
Heroine-Sneha,
Extras- Naughty classmates of Ravi
Direction- Alai Payuthey
Special thanks- Rains, trees which bring in the cool breeze to the campus and the wonderful koochi koo spots in the college. All of which act as lintels to a relationship.
(pardon me for the civil engg. reference but cant help it, as a VTU dudess put it "dude, the depth of foundation for all your topics in BCE course is very high and unnecessary".)
Ravi was a first year mech junkie and so was Sneha, but a circuit sundari (Elec.&Comm.). The very first day he saw her in the college bus, he knew she was the spark in the spark plug that ignited his adrenaline and set his heart racing.
He then went on a fact finding mission about her. Name, where she lives, how was she in studies etc. Never in his life had he dedicated himself so completely than in this work.
1) She caught the bus at the stop previous to his.( he too would catch it there from now on)
2)Pretty ok in studies(he thanked the "lord of seven hills" for that. He didnt want his ccd sessions to be tuition classes)
3)That she was a northie caused him to call out to the "lord of seven hills" once again.
"He has a fixation with lord venkateswara", you said? Not at all. You see he had an orthodox ajji for his grandmother. You know the 4am rising, mantra patanam doing, tulsi katte rounding kind. And boy was she exacting in these matters of alliance!!
First came color, the girl should be fair (even if she is unfair in other matters) and then belong to the same sub caste let alone caste. It brought some relief to our hero that she had dropped long hair, singing/dancing abilities and varadakshinam albeit grudgingly ...And with all this one mention of north indian beauties to her, you would be a proud spectator of a rendition of the ear clasping , eye closing , "rama rama" chanting scene straight out of any 60's,70's,80's movie of any wood for that matter.
So this was a cause for concern for Ravi for he had been witness to this when the family was involved in finding match for his bro . But those matters were secondary advised his naughty class mates. They prepared him for his first encounter with her.
There is a Kool Korner in campus, a student-friendly (you say "no money uncle , can i give later" and you get a smile as answer), everything-under-the-sun available and a place where you find 50% of college in the 11-11.20am break. She was there and so was he. After much goading from his friends one day, he gingerly went towards her. His Heart beats were audible to him, perspiration and hand shaking...." uh... hehe" ....he was ruining the moment. And after much deliberation he said " any idea as to the last date for paying exam fees?", "well, no..." said our sundari a bit amused and surprised at the whole situation...
He was the butt of the class for the whole day" go ask subject codes next", they said amid guffaws. " But her beauty, those fluttering doe like eyes , aur woh kali kali zulfien(even though interspersed with color color streaks) ... they made me dumb, guys...."
It was the period of his life that he would never forget. Getting groomed for college( spending time in front of the mirror, to the extent of getting some chiding from amma), admiring every little thing abt. her right from the way she put away those strands of hair behind her alphonso mango shaped ear, the way she gently held her books, the wonderous giggle when she was with her girlie gang, giving treats to friends when he thought she smirked at him.........
The rains have their part in any affair be it judaai or non-judaai. One fine day it started raining after college. Ravi trudged his way to the coll. bus, for it wasnt a pleasant day in class. If only he knew what was in store for him...
He threw his bag and sat down, cursing the CAED lecturer when he observed that she wasnt in her seat. He fidgeted for a while, as he had seen her in campus today. what had happened. He frantically looked through the windows, if he could spot her. The bus was filling up. Schumi, the driver settled down on his throne. Where the hell was she???
The engine started revving. He went near schumi and politely told him that a 'friend' had yet to climb the bus. The ever friendly schumi was not in the mood today. 'hmph', he said which meant 3 minutes and i am leaving. 30,60,90...179secs..... Gear shifted from to neutral to first with the simultaneous release and depression of the clutch and accelerator respectively.
Then he saw her...running... he quickly opened the door and held his hand out ddlj style, she too extended hers.... "come on you can do it......"he screamed.... the bus was exiting the gates....
She offered him a seat beside her. He was bloody beyond happy (for the fact that his hair had been perfectly set for the occasion; rain acting as the gel....). His class troubles vanished in an instant. Then she asked him
"why didn't you open the door, when you stood right next to the driver?....".
"Oh well never mind i was thinking about an SRK movie scene and schumi with his shout brought me back to this world, hope you didn't drench too much?"
She giggled, feeling sorry for this fool and his ways. He loved her and he would do just about anything for her. Someone played "And Nothing else matters"on the cellphone loudspeaker, from behind... He closed his eyes trying to soak in the rest of the journey back home....
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
8th mile
Our official college fest 8th mile (which was returning after a 5 year hiatus...) was never an event which caught our imagination. Rumors were abound about fund shortages, bad publicity among local colleges. The scheduling of the events was horrendous to say the least (51 events in 2 days...).Some of the reactions from RVCE dudes...
The snooty Deb Soc dude:" Bah, i dont really care about the fest. But belting NLSIU in Parliamentary Deb. will be nice..."(drools at the thought...)
The Northie hostelite (and forced volunteer) :"Plz buy the fest t-shirt otherwise seniors hame uDaadenge.."
Arbit 9+ pointer:" I would definitely look forward for the two day Robotics workshop (beams at the thought of building a line follower bot)...."
Lost in love macha:" I hope she turns up for the fest..."
Quiz corper to admin: "sir i need projector to conduct the gen quiz"
Admin:" Sell ten fest t-shirts and the projector is yours.."
Qc(to himself):" MC, BC, bloody i will put only peters..."
And somehow enthusiasm rubbed on to the others as the dates of the fest neared.
I enjoyed participating in many of the events and more so being a part of the audience. The events ranged from Ikebana to photography to short movie making to street play...
The fest ended with two concerts. One by world folk fusion music macha raghu dixit (which i missed unfortunately for i was busy beholding the short movie comp.).
The other was by Pravin Godkhindi, a familiar name if you watch Raaga Ranjini on Etv but to the uninitiated he is a second generation flautist in his family and his known for his command on the instrument and also for his pleasant fusion music.
He began the concert with the song Krishna which is also the name of the band. It was in raag Bhoop (mohana in Carnatic). A melodious simple raaga which brought about a sense of peace and goodness in the atmosphere. He later paused for a while to explain to the audience how to shout "Krishna", when the band played the crescendo part of the composition. He was amazed by our co-ordination. Later in an attempt to connect film music with classical raagas he played popular kannada hits composed in the same raga like "naa vaa duva nudiye kannada nudi"
Next he moved to Raag Bhimplas (closely resembles Abheri in Carnatic) where he played hits like, viraha nuuru nuuru taraha, gaganavu yello, tum hire-Criminal, Banna nanna olavina Banna, Gori tera roop..., Tu cheez badi hai-Mohra among others... and we never knew that these hits were based on something classical like Bhimplas...the rest of the band members gelled beautifully with him; anticipating his variations and sometimes providing their own!!
The last raaga was Mishra pahadi. He first demonstrated his skills with the instrument by playing out the sweet sounds of nature. The birds chirping, ripples of a nearby river.. I don't know about the audience but myself being a music aficionado this rendition certainly transported me to a different world altogether. He then resumed to playing popular hits in the same raga like tere mere hooton se, malgudi theme, Dooni saagali, Tum paas aaye-Kuch kuch hota hain, papa kehta hain, pardesi pardesi jaana nahin-raja hindustani...
He gelled very well with audience and proof is the fact that he made us all to write down the names of the famous tunes he played in a sheet of paper for a small prize in the end...
At the end he asked us all to pursue/listen to classical music now that they got a taste of it. It was a memorable evening. And getting his autograph was an icing on the cake.....
And thus the fest, like the big fat Indian wedding which would somehow transform from chaos on the brink to picture perfect, went to become a great success....
The snooty Deb Soc dude:" Bah, i dont really care about the fest. But belting NLSIU in Parliamentary Deb. will be nice..."(drools at the thought...)
The Northie hostelite (and forced volunteer) :"Plz buy the fest t-shirt otherwise seniors hame uDaadenge.."
Arbit 9+ pointer:" I would definitely look forward for the two day Robotics workshop (beams at the thought of building a line follower bot)...."
Lost in love macha:" I hope she turns up for the fest..."
Quiz corper to admin: "sir i need projector to conduct the gen quiz"
Admin:" Sell ten fest t-shirts and the projector is yours.."
Qc(to himself):" MC, BC, bloody i will put only peters..."
And somehow enthusiasm rubbed on to the others as the dates of the fest neared.
I enjoyed participating in many of the events and more so being a part of the audience. The events ranged from Ikebana to photography to short movie making to street play...
The fest ended with two concerts. One by world folk fusion music macha raghu dixit (which i missed unfortunately for i was busy beholding the short movie comp.).
The other was by Pravin Godkhindi, a familiar name if you watch Raaga Ranjini on Etv but to the uninitiated he is a second generation flautist in his family and his known for his command on the instrument and also for his pleasant fusion music.
He began the concert with the song Krishna which is also the name of the band. It was in raag Bhoop (mohana in Carnatic). A melodious simple raaga which brought about a sense of peace and goodness in the atmosphere. He later paused for a while to explain to the audience how to shout "Krishna", when the band played the crescendo part of the composition. He was amazed by our co-ordination. Later in an attempt to connect film music with classical raagas he played popular kannada hits composed in the same raga like "naa vaa duva nudiye kannada nudi"
Next he moved to Raag Bhimplas (closely resembles Abheri in Carnatic) where he played hits like, viraha nuuru nuuru taraha, gaganavu yello, tum hire-Criminal, Banna nanna olavina Banna, Gori tera roop..., Tu cheez badi hai-Mohra among others... and we never knew that these hits were based on something classical like Bhimplas...the rest of the band members gelled beautifully with him; anticipating his variations and sometimes providing their own!!
The last raaga was Mishra pahadi. He first demonstrated his skills with the instrument by playing out the sweet sounds of nature. The birds chirping, ripples of a nearby river.. I don't know about the audience but myself being a music aficionado this rendition certainly transported me to a different world altogether. He then resumed to playing popular hits in the same raga like tere mere hooton se, malgudi theme, Dooni saagali, Tum paas aaye-Kuch kuch hota hain, papa kehta hain, pardesi pardesi jaana nahin-raja hindustani...
He gelled very well with audience and proof is the fact that he made us all to write down the names of the famous tunes he played in a sheet of paper for a small prize in the end...
At the end he asked us all to pursue/listen to classical music now that they got a taste of it. It was a memorable evening. And getting his autograph was an icing on the cake.....
And thus the fest, like the big fat Indian wedding which would somehow transform from chaos on the brink to picture perfect, went to become a great success....
Friday, February 29, 2008
A dear friend lost.....
You were just a sampling when we arrived, a decade and half ago...
Planted carelessly by the corporation,
in the name of afforestation.
"its too close to the house ", my uncle had said, an advice we didn't heed...
And thus slowly but steadily you grew,
under the tender care of amma and the gardener,
a fellow whose knowledge exceeded that of a seasoned farmer...
Don't you remember that stormy night,
when it rained like it was a sign of an impending doom,
when amma and i very carefully strung a rope to your slender waist and tied it to our balcony, lest you split yourself to two?....
You also grew to take a special place in our hearts,
and also in many others', who themselves (and sometimes their vehicles),
took shelter under you from sunlight and rain..
. And not to forget the fauna who were also indebted to you,
the bees, the crows, the pigeons, the squirrels...
The squirrels especially delighted me as they ran up and down your trunks,
playing gleefully as though they didn't have a worry in life,
and in the process they ran away with my gloom and strife...
You were the indicator of seasons, you stripped in fall,
(making it a hell lot difficult for amma and the gardener to clear the leaves ;)...
And then you were a sight to behold in vasantha kaala...
the varied shades of green would have definitely made a lover of nature, mad with joy...
To the non-school going boys you were but a pole,
which along with the telephone pole nearby,
would give the ideal place to wind their threads and colour them meticulously,
for the upcoming kite season...
and many a time the kites used to get stuck to you,
which was followed by " aunty can we get our kite please"....
Your branches had to pruned once a while, for it was in the verge of snapping,
any of the telephone/cable wires,
What a circus it was to get the job done which involved the cutter sitting in precarious positions,
which always (still don't the reason why), used to make amma feel, what if he slips....
Everybody used to love the breeze you brought about...
You were also the last point where the romeos could drop their juliets (of the nearby women's hostel),
for anywhere closer to the hostel would mean a thorough blasting from the warden...
The delight we used to take in watching the scene unfold from atop our house,
promises to keep in touch and flying kisses exchanged between the couple all under your blessings...
And finally your story took a different turn....
The water bill which until now had not crossed 200/-,
which is normal for a family of three,
arrived one fine day carrying with itself a figure having the digit three, in its hundred's place...
This was odd, but we let it go...
But a few months later when the three got replaced by five,
we all decided to look into the matter earnestly,
checked for leaks, tried to make our usage efficient but to no avail...
Then it was decided to mark the level of water in the sump to check if it had cracked...
The next day we saw the water hovering 2 feet below the line..
The sump was emptied and was carefully checked for cracks;
when we saw your beautiful roots swaying under breaths almost mocking us...
"I think its a bit too close" uncle had said a decade and a half ago...
Now it would definitely be wrong on our part to accuse you for the mishap, its like accusing a child for his growth...
But the water had to be utilized by us than for you roots opined the elders...
Appa got into action making phone calls and everything else necessary;
for your demise...
After a fortnight, (which is a limca record opined appa), the municipal dudes arrived...
Armed with machetes and hacksaws...
They set about chopping you from 8am that day,
I couldn't bear the sight and left for college with a heavy heart...
By the time i arrived, they were still on the job with shouts of "jor lagaake aiissa...."
(kannada equivalents to be suitably substituted)...
Amma while providing refreshments for me recounted with anger as to how the neighbours behaved...
" our phone lines, our cable lines, please be careful, we can't bear without it..."
"Why sudha are you getting it cut?, it was of such utility to us..."
As if they cared....
A few hours later the dudes cleared out your parts and you were just reduced to a stump....
I sat on the pyol and shed silent tears, reminiscing the good old days,
the condition of the fauna...
My sincerest apologies to you and to those who loved you,
for this action was but inevitable...that you were a victim of circumstances...
Sunday, February 24, 2008
95
Shivu was waiting at the shankarmutt bus stop at 3.15pm on a sunday afternoon. He was lanky 20 year old with cheap clothes on and with a hairstyle to match. He himself loathed these clothes but then as time wore on he got used to it...
His destination was shivajinagar for which he had to wait for the sole route no. 95 bus coming from kamalanagar to take him. Atlast the bus arrived. He got himself a seat pretty easily for it was not the peak hour... he surveyed the crowd and saw an old farmer who carried a load beside him. The bus moved on along with its cantankerous conductor. Shivu flourished his daily pass to the conductor and fell into a reverie (which was triggered by the sight of the old farmer) about the early phase of his life...
He was a sprightly lad from Solur - a village not far from the outskirts of bengaluru... The family consisted of his farmer father, caring mother and the ever advising grandmother. His childhood was fun filled; replete with mischievous incidents which still evokes laughter in the family. His schooling was at the Govt. school nearby which just about managed to teach the village children with the facilities it possessed...
Apart from his mother, he had a special place in his heart for his lovely granny. She used to prepare him wondrous dishes apart from listening to all his school stories with glee and later at night tell him heart warming moral stories which used to put him to sleep... Those were the days of cocooned existence in his own small world. He would run along the lush fields on his off days enjoying to see his father at work, lending a hand now and then and walking back home with a tender coconut in hand...How he had rejoiced his first full grown moustache only to be spanked by his father who seemed to hell bent on getting it removed... And there was Savitri his sweetheart at school.His secret rendezvous with her by the sarayu river were the moments in his life which he felt should have never ended...
"Savitri", he said; startling a few passengers in the bus. " what if i asked her to marry me?"," Marry?! You?!, Begone you presumptuous worm", she might reply, he thought...
Years rolled on and he passed out of his SSlc with a first class which was celebrated with much fanfare in the village. He could still remember the tear filled eyes of his appa telling every other passerby in the street" see my son, he passed his sslc. Can you even dream of such an achievement ?". The future was hazy for shivu. The village couldn't offer any more education to this lad....
The loud noise and the simultaneous clicking of the tongues woke him up as the bus passed Harischandra ghat... he felt sad looking at the dead body and at once remembered a story which the cane wielding history teacher maadayya had told him. Alexander the great wished his arms outstretched with his palms facing skywards on his final journey- to signify that he left everything behind... Shivu was troubled by the metaphysical question that why should the humankind keep accumulating wealth when they had leave it all behind at some point of time... He shied away from racking his brains over such philosophical matters...
His father dared not to suggest his son to follow agriculture for his mother would come up with "why did we make him study at all, then?". His grandma however felt that the fields will make better use of his knowledge than any other occupation. She also felt he shouldn't be sent to the city...
One fine day a distant relative of his father visited him and upon being briefed about shivu's predicament he had one thing to say," Just send him to Bangalore, with his knowledge he will survive in the city.." After hearing grandma's protest regarding the polluted culture and the bad influence of it on shivu, he said," amma the struggle among the evil forces might mould him to be better person than he is today, one day or the other he has face the harsh realities of life, isn't it?". With that argument the entire household was more or less convinced...
Shivu's problem was how to confront savitri on this issue. On the banks of the river with the red setting sun and the murmuring casuarina trees as the background they sat down hand in hand. Not able to open his mouth on the recent developments, he fidgeted. Sensing his discomfort as only women know how to, she made him tell her about the Bangalore trip. She did make a lot of hue and cry about missing him and took a promise from him that he would keep in touch through the snail-mail. A promise which was broken within a few months of his stay in the city...
To say that shivu was overwhelmed was a bit of an understatement when he saw bangalore.. The big roads , the fashionable people, the vehicles, the malls made him to gape at almost everything. He stayed in that distance relatives' son's place and tried desperately for a job. He realised that having studied in kannada medium throughout his life, he would never survive in this city. He wrote letters to both his parents and savitri with the intila excitements as any small kid have on acquiring a new toy...The son made an alternate residential accomodation for shivu unable to bear his wife's taunts on the unnecessary expenditures on account of shivu...
He finally got a job as a PCO operator which didn't require much of a skill. He was bored with the job and began begging for job offers among the many customers who used to frequent the PCO. One fine day a portly man with a scar running thourgh his right cheek asked him to come to shivajinagar, and promised him a lucrative job. That was the first time he climbed 95...
The boss had a soft corner for shivu as he had for other village lads in his gang....The initial assignments for shivu were simple extortions in and around shivajinagar, but after 2 years he had graduated to slaying rival gang members without much of a remorse...
"Cunningham road" shouted the conductor. Shivu was amazed at how he came to be what he is today. "Perhaps, The boss had the uncanny ability of turning my inability to make a living here by ordinary dreams, my frustrations on being without my parents, village and my beloved, into an uncontrolled anger which was needed for the job..." He felt that the boss had taken good care of him and that it was his duty to be at his bidding....
Outside the window he saw a government ad regarding their agricultural measures which consisted of a picture of a happy farmer family standing in a lush green fields.... Shivu fought as hard as he could to hold back his tears as all the memories came rushing to him in full force. he lost the battle...
"Get down brother!! bloody jobless fellows; make our jobs miserable...." shouted the conductor to which shivu got down and wiped his tear soaked face worried if the boss might notice it...
P.S: credits to RKN for "begone you...." and the village setting...
His destination was shivajinagar for which he had to wait for the sole route no. 95 bus coming from kamalanagar to take him. Atlast the bus arrived. He got himself a seat pretty easily for it was not the peak hour... he surveyed the crowd and saw an old farmer who carried a load beside him. The bus moved on along with its cantankerous conductor. Shivu flourished his daily pass to the conductor and fell into a reverie (which was triggered by the sight of the old farmer) about the early phase of his life...
He was a sprightly lad from Solur - a village not far from the outskirts of bengaluru... The family consisted of his farmer father, caring mother and the ever advising grandmother. His childhood was fun filled; replete with mischievous incidents which still evokes laughter in the family. His schooling was at the Govt. school nearby which just about managed to teach the village children with the facilities it possessed...
Apart from his mother, he had a special place in his heart for his lovely granny. She used to prepare him wondrous dishes apart from listening to all his school stories with glee and later at night tell him heart warming moral stories which used to put him to sleep... Those were the days of cocooned existence in his own small world. He would run along the lush fields on his off days enjoying to see his father at work, lending a hand now and then and walking back home with a tender coconut in hand...How he had rejoiced his first full grown moustache only to be spanked by his father who seemed to hell bent on getting it removed... And there was Savitri his sweetheart at school.His secret rendezvous with her by the sarayu river were the moments in his life which he felt should have never ended...
"Savitri", he said; startling a few passengers in the bus. " what if i asked her to marry me?"," Marry?! You?!, Begone you presumptuous worm", she might reply, he thought...
Years rolled on and he passed out of his SSlc with a first class which was celebrated with much fanfare in the village. He could still remember the tear filled eyes of his appa telling every other passerby in the street" see my son, he passed his sslc. Can you even dream of such an achievement ?". The future was hazy for shivu. The village couldn't offer any more education to this lad....
The loud noise and the simultaneous clicking of the tongues woke him up as the bus passed Harischandra ghat... he felt sad looking at the dead body and at once remembered a story which the cane wielding history teacher maadayya had told him. Alexander the great wished his arms outstretched with his palms facing skywards on his final journey- to signify that he left everything behind... Shivu was troubled by the metaphysical question that why should the humankind keep accumulating wealth when they had leave it all behind at some point of time... He shied away from racking his brains over such philosophical matters...
His father dared not to suggest his son to follow agriculture for his mother would come up with "why did we make him study at all, then?". His grandma however felt that the fields will make better use of his knowledge than any other occupation. She also felt he shouldn't be sent to the city...
One fine day a distant relative of his father visited him and upon being briefed about shivu's predicament he had one thing to say," Just send him to Bangalore, with his knowledge he will survive in the city.." After hearing grandma's protest regarding the polluted culture and the bad influence of it on shivu, he said," amma the struggle among the evil forces might mould him to be better person than he is today, one day or the other he has face the harsh realities of life, isn't it?". With that argument the entire household was more or less convinced...
Shivu's problem was how to confront savitri on this issue. On the banks of the river with the red setting sun and the murmuring casuarina trees as the background they sat down hand in hand. Not able to open his mouth on the recent developments, he fidgeted. Sensing his discomfort as only women know how to, she made him tell her about the Bangalore trip. She did make a lot of hue and cry about missing him and took a promise from him that he would keep in touch through the snail-mail. A promise which was broken within a few months of his stay in the city...
To say that shivu was overwhelmed was a bit of an understatement when he saw bangalore.. The big roads , the fashionable people, the vehicles, the malls made him to gape at almost everything. He stayed in that distance relatives' son's place and tried desperately for a job. He realised that having studied in kannada medium throughout his life, he would never survive in this city. He wrote letters to both his parents and savitri with the intila excitements as any small kid have on acquiring a new toy...The son made an alternate residential accomodation for shivu unable to bear his wife's taunts on the unnecessary expenditures on account of shivu...
He finally got a job as a PCO operator which didn't require much of a skill. He was bored with the job and began begging for job offers among the many customers who used to frequent the PCO. One fine day a portly man with a scar running thourgh his right cheek asked him to come to shivajinagar, and promised him a lucrative job. That was the first time he climbed 95...
The boss had a soft corner for shivu as he had for other village lads in his gang....The initial assignments for shivu were simple extortions in and around shivajinagar, but after 2 years he had graduated to slaying rival gang members without much of a remorse...
"Cunningham road" shouted the conductor. Shivu was amazed at how he came to be what he is today. "Perhaps, The boss had the uncanny ability of turning my inability to make a living here by ordinary dreams, my frustrations on being without my parents, village and my beloved, into an uncontrolled anger which was needed for the job..." He felt that the boss had taken good care of him and that it was his duty to be at his bidding....
Outside the window he saw a government ad regarding their agricultural measures which consisted of a picture of a happy farmer family standing in a lush green fields.... Shivu fought as hard as he could to hold back his tears as all the memories came rushing to him in full force. he lost the battle...
"Get down brother!! bloody jobless fellows; make our jobs miserable...." shouted the conductor to which shivu got down and wiped his tear soaked face worried if the boss might notice it...
P.S: credits to RKN for "begone you...." and the village setting...
Friday, January 18, 2008
My visit to the municipal office...
You see one of the many benefits that you receive on becoming a major in India are the whole lot of licenses, ID cards in your name; to show the world perhaps that you have truly arrived. One such is the voter ID card. An accessory that allows me to exercise my vote to money hungry nincompoops who know that other than the job that they are doing they would never fit in anywhere in this world given their brains. ok getting to the point, i decided to enroll my name in the new voter list. The CEC on his visit to our state was hopping mad (literally) at the poor state of the election machinery here. So after receiving a thorough spanking from him they (municipal dudes) ran around the city hither and tither enrolling and checking as many people they came across.
I didn't want my name to be lost in this melee. So decided to do it the Right way. I was dressed in sober clothes so as not give an impression that i was of the flashy type (this from my brother who had a harrowing experience on wearing a leather jacket on one such occasion). My mom being a psychology student said that such an impression would make the already lazy workers to make me wait further (bribe appreciation) and all that crap. I followed it religiously albeit having a dilemma if my navy blue shirt might offend him in some way.
I was glad to see fresh printouts stuck at all visible places asking the citizens to enroll their names at the office. I had to approach the revenue officer (whose kannada equivalent was informed to me by my father which i promptly forgot). Finally having done so the officer dismissed me by waving his left hand, on hearing my WARD no. he said " next building".
The next building had 3 floors and having studied modular programming in C, i went in for a top-down approach.(there was no board who was in which floor thus...). At the 3rd floor i saw 4 guys with some 30 other tables empty. An old villager was arguing with one of them regarding some land papers while the 3 others were busy in deciding whether to attend X's marriage or not. "how will the food be?" asks one. "that stingy dude wouldn't have spent much." said the other slurrping on steaming coffee. i stood in front of them and cleared my throat. "wha?" he said apparently very much disturbed to having an interruption on going ons. "sir ward 19", i said with namrata bhaava. "2nd floor ravi" was the answer and he went back to his dicussion.
2nd floor ravi said "1st floor sagar". But sagar was absent. Ok i settled down on a chair of one the many empty desks. "election duty pa ,that's why so many missing" someone said. By that 9year old boy came in to office plate in hand with a glasses of steaming coffee to be distributed to the meager crowd. The workers relished it with aplomb without a care for the outside world whether it was problematic citizens......
I left them alone (feeling a bit drowsy myself) and looked around if sagar arrived. I observed musty files overflowing everywhere. 'Why the hell don't they digitize this?' i thought. i saw a lone HP processor in one of the chambers.The tout who was invisible until now came from nowhere and asked if everything was alright and if i needed any guidance. I thanked him for his innocent concern. Sagar finally stepped in after some time. I ran up to him and repeated my request. To which he first setteled himself into the chair ; arched his arms; peered at me ;scratched his unshaven chin and cleaned his ear vigorously and then "what?". I was unfazed, i repeated my request for the form. "oh, that, oi ramu get that register from that cupboard i say"."oo coffee, good good. tell your owner not to grudge on sugar ok?" this to the coffee bearer. i wait. ramu throws a bundle on sagar's table. "find form 6", he ordered. i rummage through it for a long time and on finally getting i settled down in front of him to fill up the in kannada, the language which i used to write confidently 2.5 years ago and now sparsely in grocery lists.
The tout came from behind again; this time having served a few customers. "Can i help you fill the form sir? it is kannada you see"."Will manage" and glared at him. "strange customer",he muttered under his breath and went away to the more needy ones.
"finished?", sagar asked after tapping on the desk. I submitted the form to him which he promptly threw into a old dilapidated folder."that's it, you can leave". I walked back smirking after completing the first hurdle towards exercising what i consider one of my fundamental duties. ;)
I didn't want my name to be lost in this melee. So decided to do it the Right way. I was dressed in sober clothes so as not give an impression that i was of the flashy type (this from my brother who had a harrowing experience on wearing a leather jacket on one such occasion). My mom being a psychology student said that such an impression would make the already lazy workers to make me wait further (bribe appreciation) and all that crap. I followed it religiously albeit having a dilemma if my navy blue shirt might offend him in some way.
I was glad to see fresh printouts stuck at all visible places asking the citizens to enroll their names at the office. I had to approach the revenue officer (whose kannada equivalent was informed to me by my father which i promptly forgot). Finally having done so the officer dismissed me by waving his left hand, on hearing my WARD no. he said " next building".
The next building had 3 floors and having studied modular programming in C, i went in for a top-down approach.(there was no board who was in which floor thus...). At the 3rd floor i saw 4 guys with some 30 other tables empty. An old villager was arguing with one of them regarding some land papers while the 3 others were busy in deciding whether to attend X's marriage or not. "how will the food be?" asks one. "that stingy dude wouldn't have spent much." said the other slurrping on steaming coffee. i stood in front of them and cleared my throat. "wha?" he said apparently very much disturbed to having an interruption on going ons. "sir ward 19", i said with namrata bhaava. "2nd floor ravi" was the answer and he went back to his dicussion.
2nd floor ravi said "1st floor sagar". But sagar was absent. Ok i settled down on a chair of one the many empty desks. "election duty pa ,that's why so many missing" someone said. By that 9year old boy came in to office plate in hand with a glasses of steaming coffee to be distributed to the meager crowd. The workers relished it with aplomb without a care for the outside world whether it was problematic citizens......
I left them alone (feeling a bit drowsy myself) and looked around if sagar arrived. I observed musty files overflowing everywhere. 'Why the hell don't they digitize this?' i thought. i saw a lone HP processor in one of the chambers.The tout who was invisible until now came from nowhere and asked if everything was alright and if i needed any guidance. I thanked him for his innocent concern. Sagar finally stepped in after some time. I ran up to him and repeated my request. To which he first setteled himself into the chair ; arched his arms; peered at me ;scratched his unshaven chin and cleaned his ear vigorously and then "what?". I was unfazed, i repeated my request for the form. "oh, that, oi ramu get that register from that cupboard i say"."oo coffee, good good. tell your owner not to grudge on sugar ok?" this to the coffee bearer. i wait. ramu throws a bundle on sagar's table. "find form 6", he ordered. i rummage through it for a long time and on finally getting i settled down in front of him to fill up the in kannada, the language which i used to write confidently 2.5 years ago and now sparsely in grocery lists.
The tout came from behind again; this time having served a few customers. "Can i help you fill the form sir? it is kannada you see"."Will manage" and glared at him. "strange customer",he muttered under his breath and went away to the more needy ones.
"finished?", sagar asked after tapping on the desk. I submitted the form to him which he promptly threw into a old dilapidated folder."that's it, you can leave". I walked back smirking after completing the first hurdle towards exercising what i consider one of my fundamental duties. ;)
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