Toffees: The New Currency of India

A few days back, I was busy finishing some grocery shopping when I came across (once again) the latest currency of modern India - little chunks of sweetened chocolate filled caramel covered in attractive shimmering wrappers. Okay, I am probably being a little biased by classifying all toffees under the éclairs variety, but the point I am trying to make is that while progressing towards the much hyped 21^st century, it seems that we are finally ready (mentally and economically) to adopt some of the efficiently effective customs developed during the Indus Valley Civilization of bygone years.

This was not the first time that I had received some toffees when I was actually expecting some coins, but it sure was one of those few times when I decided to give the shopkeepers a taste of their own medicine. It so happened that at a shop I had to pay 13 bucks and the guy behind the counter returned 2 éclairs along with an INR fiver. After a while I was at yet another shop and was expected to shell out 23 bucks. Though I had the requisite amount of change in my wallet, but I was slightly irritated by the forced toffees and therefore decided to be a cheeky customer rather than my usual docile self. Consequently, I ended up giving this second counter guy 2 toffees along with a coin.

On my way back from the market to the place I call home, I realised that my mind had found a new topic for its daily evening monologue. It was busy recalling and justifying the variety of defiant acts I have been involved in relation to toffees being used as money. The earliest I could recall was an incident of 2007 when I was still in college. A friend and I were busy hogging all varieties of junk food at a moderately cheap ‘we_serve_it_all’ shop, when I was required to pay 5 bucks. I handed a crisp ten rupee note to cash counter fellow and he was impertinent enough to give me 5 toffees in place of change. When I demanded an explanation, with a smirk he answered that this was all he could do unless I could give him the exact change. My slow brain couldn’t process an apt reply just then and as a result I left that shop feeling slightly frustrated. However, my friend and I were in the same market for quite some time and that incident kept playing reruns in my mind. A short while later when we happened to be in the vicinity of that shop once again, my mind finally came up with an impulsive scheme for revenge. I walked inside that shop, the counter guy of course recognised me and poor chap was so taken aback when I handed him his own toffees for a 5 rupee coupon he had already generated.

I think this was the first incident when I had decided to come out of the soft cocoon of a easy going ever tolerating consumer, but this was not the only time. I have repeated these acts time and again depending upon my mood and frustration levels. And though the shopkeepers often resist in accepting their kind of currency, but whenever I indulge in such activities, I am usually resolute enough to achieve my goal.

What vexes me the most about this new currency issue is that these shopkeepers are always trying to impose their choice of toffees on me. Had they been handing me hard cash, I wouldn’t have bothered in the least about what make of coin were they giving me. In case of real cash, one never even checks the year of manufacturing and the name of the then RBI governor. However, this is so only because all coins are same (except for the denomination) and can be used by applying principles of simple arithmetic. But the same is not the case with toffees.

The factors involved in determining the worth of a toffee are just too many. A toffee needs to be judged on parameters like make, year of manufacturing, brand name, type, taste and therefore calls for advance calculus and economics to be looked into before determining the exact value of a toffee. What may be my favourite toffee might just be a piece of useless sweet for another. Thus, when our new currency can be interpreted differently on the mere basis of personal choice and perception, then perhaps it is not the best choice that we have.

Last but not the least, though it sounds very lame as a conclusion, but really it is not so much about the money as it is about the feeling of not letting others cheat on me. To quote from a recent bollywood flick, 'agar do rupaye kuch hote nahi hain, to do rupaye ke liye bemaani kyu karte ho'!

The Mundane Issues of Routine Life :)

I woke up in the morning with a question. "What time is it?" This was followed by a series of questions thrown up in the rapid fire format. "Is it time to wake up?" "Can't I sleep for a few more minutes?" "Why has the maid not turned up yet?" "Is she going to be late?" "Am I going to be late?" "Do I really have to go to work today?" "Why is today not a holiday?" "What if I bunk all my plans and sleep up really late?" "What if I wake up with just enough time to get ready and leave for office?"

Finally, my sensible mind intervened and told me "Shut up Kinshuk! Get out of bed and get started!" That was when this thought first seeped in my mind. I realised that the initial two hours of my daily life are so routine and so full of mundane but indispensable issues that they do deserve a place on my blog.

Everyday, I spend the morning asking myself just too many questions. Living alone, I often indulge in monologues with myself, but what I have often observed is that the morning monologues are usually a series of rhetorical questions. Starting from the debate on the right time to wake up (or should I say, Is it the right time to wake up?) to issues like if at all I should cook (or not), whether I should have some breakfast, to what should I wear to work and of course, can I really not bunk office.

A regular day starts with my mind partitioning itself into two compartments, one of which cares for my comfort and pleasure (Read lazy) and the second one takes care of the practical issues. (This is quite similar to how I expect life to shape up post marriage; with me looking after the ‘pleasure’ aspects of life and Aks taking care of all the practical issues :P ) Okay, coming back to my original topic, of course the first debatable issue is about getting out of bed, but since past 3 months this issue has been out of bound for me, courtesy my ever so sincere and punctual house-maid. At times she actually coaxes me to open the door (and even cook). Once out of bed, there are not enough options to squander time and I eventually end up in kitchen.

The next debate of the day is about whether to cook lunch or breakfast or tea or all of them or even better none :P . Again I don’t have to put in much of an effort in reaching a conclusion in this regard. The biggest deciding factor is the availability of time, the next one is availability of resources (Read basic ingredients like ‘Sabji’, ‘Doodh’ and ‘bread’). Finally, the veto power rests with my laziness (which is further facilitated by my excellently cooperative memory, which comfortably forgets the canteen lunch menu for that day and makes me believe that I will surely find some good lunch in office :P ).

Once I am done with part 1 of the basic human requirements of ‘Roti, Kapda and Makaan’ (I must admit my relief that at least I don’t have to worry about the ‘Makaan’ issue on a regular basis :P ), my debatable minds reach the next platter and need a decision on ‘What to wear?’ Ahh! This indeed is a tough question (esp. being a female), with numerous factors to consider before reaching any conclusion. A neat policy of rejection is to be adopted and I start by limiting my options to what all ‘clean’ stuff is available. Second point to be studied is the site conditions ie ‘Will I be spending major portion of time on field or in office?’ ‘Is it a rainy/muddy day, or is it a sunny day, or is it for a change a pleasant day?’ The next query I raise to the practical half is that whether I have sufficient time to iron a dress or should I rather stick to 100% wrinkle free brigade (the lazy-lazy me gives a wide sneer while dragging the practical me into this sub-issue). The veto power in this case goes to the two halves combined because just when they are about to reach a consensus, I confront both of them with the ultimate question “When was the last that I wore it to office? :P.” Even though there aren’t enough females in my office to notice these issues, but I do have a reputation to maintain. :P

By the time these debates are concluded and the decisions are being implemented, I realise that like all PSU projects, I miscalculated the time. The two halves of my mind combine into one and its finally time for the ‘Jugaad’. So finally when I lock my door a little before 9, I often carry a lunch box with ‘sabji and dal’ (My unified mind reasons: Rotis should be eaten hot and should therefore be outsourced to canteen, its not so bad afterall :P). Also I am often carrying two pieces of bread in my hand. (Again my mind defends that there is nothing to be ashamed of, I am eating my breakfast and should not be bothered with the ‘What people might think?’ syndrome.) Last but not the least; I am often wearing some un-ironed dress because afterall the ironed creases last only for the first 15 minutes. :D

Being a 'Madam'

In a country like ours where nothing unifies us better than the diversity itself, many a strange customs are practiced. In many communities the daughter-in-law is rechristened and is given a name which is supposedly more auspicious for the groom and his family. A few years back, two and half to be precise, I was confronted with a similar ritual in my office. I really can't recall the exact naming ceremony, but since my employment in this company I have been invariably called 'Madam'. (I guess I wouldn't have minded so much, had it been the more trendy 'Ma'am' word, but then I was never given a choice). So thus, without realising it initially, from being Kinshuk, I became a Madam.

As a precursor to this ‘naamkaran sanskar’ I had witnessed sufficient acts to prepare myself mentally for what was in store for me in near future. (Or so I thought!) Now-a-days every corporate loves to impress its new recruits by making all the bigwigs address them during the induction module. In PSU jobs, since promotions are more time bound than performance based, thence the average age of the big shots is never less than 50 years. Though I am not too sure about what exactly goes inside their minds, but something always impels them to behave in a ‘youngish’ manner in front of the newborns of the company. As a result of this policy, we met at least 4-5 Directors, umpteen numbers of EDs and other similar ‘lesser’ mortals during our initial training sessions and a major percentage of these people loved to shake hands with a few and quite often all of us. What was a little surprising to me during these hand-shake sessions was that irrespective of their seniority (professionally as well as biologically), they invariable folded hands in front of me and did a well rehearsed ‘namaste’ instead of the usual crisp handshakes which were fervently bestowed upon my male colleagues.

I noticed this process during the three months of my training, but it didn’t really register in my mind. Personally I found the arrangement somewhat convenient esp. because of two reasons. One, being the candid rebel that I often tend to be, I was rarely appreciative of the people shaking hands with me (reasons for my dislike ranged from the pointless class that person might have taken to the smirk on his face implying that what did I want to prove by trying my luck in a ‘man’s world). Secondly, since my name is somewhat incomprehensible to the uninitiated, dodging the hand-shake often helped me in skipping my intro altogether.

After the initial common training program, where we were 17 girls in a batch of 123 (I must admit that the gender ratio was better than my college’s), we were sent off for our divisional training where I realised we were just 2 ‘madams’ in a batch of 13. So, from being one of the female new recruits of my company, I went on to become one of the madams. To be more honest, due to some reasons my colleague never actually became a madam but since my appearance always tends to portray an aged me, (sorry me) no one ever had a problem tagging me thus. However, there was still some solace to be found in the fact that my batchmates were still new to this PSU culture and could still recall my name. I thought that everything shall be fine as long as I was able to hear my name being used to address me by at least 50% janta. So, comforting and consoling my heart thus, I continued to ignore the conspiracy that was being plotted in the background by the 98% janta of my division.

Soon enough the training sessions were over and we were headed for our respective slaughter houses. I realised that 8 of us who were trained together were to be posted at the same station. I was quite comfortable with the arrangement for I thought that at least there would be familiar faces around (who knew me by my name too). However, the trailer was over by now and we were in for the real action of office life. After joining, my first realization was regarding the age of my bosses. They actually discussed their kids’ careers with us! The second revelation for me was my gender. I suddenly realised that I was a female and this fact had implications deeper than biology and psychology could ever summarize. (Perhaps I should have thought about Sociology then, but back then I used to associate Arts subjects with slight disrespect.)

‘Whether I asked for a construction posting?’ is one question that I have been answering since last 2.5 years. People usually ask this in a sympathizing tone hoping to evoke the damsel in distress and to eventually gain a favourable reputation in my eyes. But then they are not aware about my rebellious offensive side. ‘Vaise’, don’t get me wrong I usually don’t spill venom other than from my eyes. (Quoting a school friend, I rarely need to comment; the gaze in itself is sufficient to stop the non sense :) On a serious note, I never asked for a construction posting. All I had asked for was to be posted anywhere near Lucknow and by my standards 10-12 hours is near enough. On yet another serious note, I feel really thankful to the HR fellows who gave me this opportunity because in this dept. I have been able to learn a lot (tech. non tech. both), have become more practical; I get too many opportunities to thrash my contractors and am sometimes filled with a sense of accomplishment as well. Also I am thankful that I have got many chances to look beyond my computer screen and the filing cabinets (which was what most of the people, I had met during training period, had predicted). However sometimes even I think that HR people goofed up a little and have unknowingly blessed me thus. (See, I said na, Bhagwaanji always looks after me :)

Moving back to the time when I was still a novice at being a madam. I was suddenly aware of the fact that I was a girl. It is not that I was totally new to the concept of being the odd one out, but the ratio out here was shocking. Including me, there were just two females in my office and we were distinguished on the basis of our departments (even though we had lot many more differences, I must say). So while she was ‘Finance waali Madam’, I soon became the ‘Construction waali Madam’. Soon enough the whole office knew me at least by this tag even if not by face and rarely by name (Ahh! I do have a tough name). The real shock was when I saw canteen waiters and CISF personnels writing my name as Madam on bills and visitor passes!

This ‘Madam’ word had such seductive powers that soon enough many of my batchmates forgot my name and could never refer to me without this suffix. Somehow I have always found it embarrassing whenever anyone (except my juniors, who started joining six months later) referred to me thus. I happened to be the youngest employee and used to be addressed in a manner suitable for may be the first lady of the house. Sometimes I felt bad to see the efforts of my parents (in naming me) being wasted and sometimes I felt that it was an attempt to sabotage my identity. However, being human, I could not keep myself away from this trap for long. It was just a matter of time when I myself started referring to me thus. Very soon I was making calls to the canteen reception and was describing myself as ‘madam from construction’.

Now after two and a half years of a relentless struggle to make people address me by my real name, I often wonder whether the ‘saamne waala person’ is even aware of my name. However, I have surely been successful in my struggle, even though just partially. Even though my HOD, who prefers to think himself to be nothing less than a king, is still unable to use my name, yet presently there are at least 10 people in the office (out of the total 140) who are able to call me ‘Kinshuk’. However, this doesn’t really stop me from being a Madam. Almost every moment that is spent in office makes me realise my gender by actions ranging from complimenting to endearing to shocking to offensive to embarrassing to challenging to out rightly demeaning at times.

During my professional experience so far I have faced a variety of situations which can be attributed to my gender alone. I have observed that people tend to take an extra interest in my appearance (read clothes), quite vocally so. Many of these idiots are brainless enough not to be able to read my discomfort in listening to their nonsense and invariably I have to resort to offensive measures to curtail them. Also, I have noticed that some of the elderly kinds tend to take such interest in my well being and safety that it might even make my mother feel that she is not caring enough. Well, I do agree that this is not something to feel bad about, but it does seem unnatural and is quite unnerving at times. Many colleagues have preconceived notions about my abilities (and the lack of them) and prefer to think of me as a technical clerk rather than what my degree reads. Then there is yet another class of colleagues and seniors who are happy to se me working the way I do but they prefer not to hide their surprise at it as well. However, another experience which deserves a mention out here is the way the eyes of the female labours (at site) light up when they see me going on a round. Their expression and smile is worthy of all the gender fights I might have fought on a given day. I don’t want portray myself as women rights’ activist, but it is a bond only two females who are trying to make their mark in a men’s world can feel.

Going through the above paragraphs made me feel that I have been quite a feminist in this article. Well, its not that my employers have wronged me all the time and have always interacted with me with this prejudice at the back of their minds. It is more like that finally (after struggling for my rights with most of them) we have reached an agreement of sorts. My being a female does has its own limitations which need to be taken care of. There are certain constraints which have to be looked into before assigning any work to me. However it would be highly improper on my part to ‘mis-use’ my gender based liberties. So while my employers take care of my limitations, I try to ensure that I am able to use my potential.

Moreover, though it is usually the masculine sect which gets blamed for the prevalent gender inequality, yet I have often felt that more often than not, we ‘females’ are not too willing to accept the equality as well. Numerous times I have witnessed girls n Madams vying for gender based priviledges at places which offer none. Some might term it as the charm of being the fairer sex, but if equality is what we want then perhaps we should first set our minds on it. Equality should not be used as an opportunity and the clause should never become ‘equality or favouritism, whichever is more beneficial’. Also, we ourselves find it difficult to accept another female making her mark and are always looking for some ulterior methods she might have adopted in being what she is. Last year, at a dinner party I was busy chatting wid my colleagues when we were introduced to a few Bhabhijis. After an interaction of over half an hour, one of them enquired that how did I spent my afternoons; that is when I realised she had been mistaking me to be yet another Bhabhi. The wise lady was clever enough not to name ‘my husband’ once she realised her folly, but her behaviour set me thinking that why is it always difficult for us to accept each other in ‘other than normal’ scenarios. Similarly, I have often observed that whenever I meet any unfamiliar officer (irrespective of gender), it is always assumed that I must belong to the 36 hrs duty department. On a very serious note, we females are as much to be blamed as our male counterparts for propagating the gender biases that we are subjected to.

I have been a Madam for quite some time now and even though it hasn’t been a very pleasant experience on the whole, given a chance I will not be willing to exchange it for any other thing. After all, humans can go to any extent just to be outstanding and different and I get it all ready made :)

Archives: The 'WHYs' after being in Love!

Dear all,

I really don’t remember what exactly triggered me to write the following article. I do remember that it was penned after a serious ‘bakar session’ with some friend, on an impulse.

It would be highly appreciated if the personal angle is not exemplified while reading this post. It was written on an impulse. And today I found it in my diary and on another impulse I am posting it online.

As always, Happy Reading!

Kinshuk

(02.05.2010)

Today’s topic is very personal and extremely close to my heart.

LOVE; love not as in the noble and general sense; but love as the empowering emotion shared between a girl and a boy, so much so that they never want to let go of each other. Love, with all its sweetness and tenderness, with all its seduction and sensualities, with all its fragility and softness and with all its companionship and understanding.

No, I shall not write about the noble relations of love, between a mother and a child, a teacher and a student or any other similar relation where the ‘Love’ is revered and the lovers honoured. Why does it all go wrong only when a girl and boy of marriageable age decide to like and love each other and dream about spending their lives happily together? The moment they admit and announce their will to get married, all kinds of reactions are reciprocated. In a typical orthodox set-up, the permission is out-rightly denied, the two are forbidden to even look at each other (and similar such restrictions are imposed). Soon enough, the two are married off to two different persons altogether. Thereby dreams of at least two and at max all four are destroyed forever.

In the more modern scenario, families having a more ‘broad minded’ approach towards society react quite differently, at least outwardly. The two sets of families give their consent, meet up, finalize the ceremonies and finally the two kids get married.

But, Hey! Hold on……. There is a little glitch. Let us try analyzing our broad-minded families inwardly…...

Apprehensions and resentment are two different emotions with just slight justification for each other. Inwardly, it is rare that the two sets of families are happy, really happy about their respective kids getting a partner they (the latter) yearned for, for life. The two sets resent each other on the whole and the kids in particular for putting them up in such a situation.

How come issues like religion, cast, and community take the bigger stage and happiness becomes secondary. When family backgrounds are similar, the girl and the boy are mature, well settled (professionally), have financial stability in life and are such people who cannot be distinguished on such basis unless one has prior information about the differences; then why do one’s cast, creed and colour become more important the moment the discussion is about ‘Marriage’.

The said couple is fully prepared, mentally, to do everything possible to keep the two families happy and satisfied, but nothing much is in their hands to resolve the resentments.

Apprehensions of course are justified and therefore can be resolved. And yes they will do every possible thing to please and appease the families. But please, please dear God, help them with the resentments.

When I befriended him, it was not an issue. When we became the best friends, it still was not an issue. So why does it become an issue now? He is an extremely caring person, understands me absolutely, tolerates my irrationalities unconditionally, loves me more than anything else in this world, can go to any extent just to ensure my happiness and comfort….. Add to it the level of social security and status our professions provide; thus the practical issues are also sorted….. If these are not enough reasons for us to get married, then what are?

WHY? Why the big why comes here? Why does anyone at all has to judge us for things beyond our control; things which don’t make us or mar us?

I know I have to win the heart of everyone in his family. I wish one day Uncle – Aunty shall be able to say that they are proud of their son and his wife (and that shall be me).

I also wish that with time all the apprehensions of my parents get sorted and that they should tell me one day that they are proud of my decision and that they are proud of him.

Dear God, you have guided us through and through, please let us be what we have dreamt of, so often. Let us be able to keep everyone in our families happy, really happy……………

Kinshuk

(28.10.2009, 22:20 hrs)

Part 1: Rehna Tu

From quite some time, I have been thinking about starting this new label. The main purpose of this label is to enable me to share the segments of prose/ poetry/ discussion/ conversation which I come across in day to day life, with all of you.

Hope you (my dear readers) will appreciate it.

Kinshuk.

P.S. Posts under this label shall be made on an absolutely random basis.

"हाथ थाम चलना हो तो

दोनो के दायें हाथ संग कैसे

एक दाँया होगा

एक बाँया होगा

थाम लो.............. हाथ ये थाम लो

चलना है संग थाम लो।"

Origin: Lines from 'Rehna Tu', a song in the movie 'Delhi-6'

Dreams: Accomplishment or a new start ?

”Beep”. She impatiently fumbled through her purse and took out her mobile. It was his message, one single word, ‘Gandhidham’. She stared at it for two minutes. She felt slightly happy, but was unsure about how to react to it. She desperately wanted to talk to him, but she knew it well that at the first possible moment he would call. This was one moment both of them had been looking forward to since past so many years.

She sat at her desk thinking about the numerous talks they had had in this regard during last two years. Especially, ever since his zone was allotted, they used to dream hopefully about a fairy tale kind of a story. Of course, it was always clear to them that once married, nothing shall come in the way of their living together. However, they wanted it to be simple with not much justification to their parents.

For them, their priorities had been very clear, almost ever since they became couple. They just wanted to be together. Their simple dream was to be able to lie next to each other while saying ‘Good night’ and to be able to wake up in each other’s arms watching each other’s innocent smile. And to ensure that this simple dream came true, they had been working hard to make ends meet. Finally, she was into a job which offered locations close enough to his probable postings. And all that they were looking forward to was his posting.

Gandhidham, his place of posting, was going to be the city where their dreams were going to be realized. It was here that they were going to start their life as ‘Them’ instead of ‘His’ and ‘Her’. Lost in these thoughts, her mind wandered to all the issues associated with this message. In her heart, she was feeling good about Gandhidham, as it offered her an easy chance of transfer. Therefore, it implied that she wouldn’t have to justify to anyone about her plans to resign from her current job in a year or two. Moreover, since the option of transfer was open, thus no one could ever blame him for the resignation.

She knew it too well that she no longer wanted to continuing working in her present organization. Gradually this desire to resign had transformed itself from the impulsive tone to that of a nagging thought, constantly barging at the inside of her head. She felt very little satisfaction in whiling away her time at office and sometimes even while at site. The sudden headache she used to have in past due to stress had been replaced by a mild but continuous headache. It was as if a bunch of flies used to attack her the moment she used to enter the office premises and these would go away only after she was back at home and had a strong cup of tea along with a heart warming talk with either her mother or him or both.

All her ideas about good work culture and delivering quality work had been changed, forcibly so. She was totally disillusioned by the system and no longer had the zeal to try changing it. She knew she was quitting early and if she stayed, may be things might get better. Moreover, in past, she herself had always argued with people who wanted to leave India for a better life that only by staying back things could be improved. But now she herself was on a similar track. However, whenever this question came up, her mind answered that she was quitting just a job but not her cause………… they will never quit their cause.

This thought led to another and she was once again lost in his thoughts. She could clearly recall the first time they had shared their dream to bring some positive change in the society. They had been so pleasantly surprised to find that individually both of them had been nurturing these plans since a long time. The fact that they both had similar opinions and plans even in this regard had only added to their bonding. That day onwards their belief grew stronger that bringing them together is a part of Bhagwaanji’s larger plan. And since then they have been making plans, minor and major, of fulfilling the task assigned to them by the Almighty. They had decided and planned that post marriage they will start some ground work for realization of their ‘big’ dream.

Thus, up till now, their aim had been to ensure that post marriage they won’t have to stay in different cities. And now it seemed that this shall happen soon, but all love and enthusiasm for her current job had started to flicker. In her heart she felt that root cause behind her disillusioned mind, behind the adjusting, ever-compromising system was to be found at more basic ground level. More so, she felt that if she has to toil, why not let it happen for a cause which leaves her feeling pleased and gratified at the end of each day. An idea had started taking shape in her mind and she was really keen on ‘Catch them young….’ philosophy.

However, the fact remained that all these ideas were too vague to be visualized and too complicated to be understood by anyone else………except him. He was her support, a pillar she could lean on in times of happiness and in times of sorrow. He emanated faith and hope and gave her the strength to go on irrespective of whatever was happening around them. And both of them knew that her resignation will not receive many favourable responses by others, definitely not right after the marriage. Thus, Gandhidham looked like their best bet; the best offer life had presented before them in this context. However, she really wanted to hear his version first, before she started formulating any opinions, after all it was he who would continue working. Moreover after her bittersweet experience of office life, she definitely didn’t want any hassles in his work, even though she knew well enough that he has always handled stress and pressure in a much better way and he shall continue to do so. Yet she hoped to hear his voice full of expectations and happiness when he would finally call her. She remembered that once he had told her that GIMB was good from his job aspect as well.

Also, her impatient, waiting mind wandered on some other tracks, bringing in front of her visuals of post marriage life. She imagined their home, she imagined herself doing the household chores, waiting for him to return home for dinner. She imagined them living together and going around places, taking walks, watching movies and many similar activities. Till now these activities were always part of a menu card with ‘Choose any two’ written in the beginning. She really looked forward to their marriage. And though, till yesterday, all she had wanted to know was where life was taking them to, now she had whole new dreams shaping up. She wondered at the irony of life, on one side it had been their dream to get his posting; now the posting itself had opened up so many different avenues for them, to set her dreaming once again.

With her heart torn between apprehension and expectation, she waited impatiently for him to call; before she could make up her mind to tell her heart to feel happy or sad; before she could decide whether it was an accomplishment of their dreams so far or whether it was going to be a new start.

Archives: For Shades

For Shades

& all those who are still dreaming of it

4th August 2003 was the day I got myself registered at NITJSR and thus began my tryst with the journey of Jamshedpur; four years of a roller coaster ride, ups & downs, some great moments as well as well as some really bad experiences…………One thing that unifies our all the students of our dear college is that whoever is going to read the opening para of this feel shall be able to identify with sentiments expressed therein……. Now after 2 years of passing out as Batch 2k3, when I look back to the period of 2003-07 what I remember the most other than the wonderful friends I met there is SHADES. When I make this statement, many of the readers might find it to be kind of a superficial, superimposed speech, but I trust a few of those who have spent time with the shades team in 212 and 222, shall be able to reciprocate this feeling.

My first encounter with SHADES was under the guidance of 2k batch, and my first reaction was of a pleasant surprise. After so many disappointments of 1st yr college life, SHADES was like a breeze of fresh air, to see and join a handful of students turning an ED room into a fine arts exhibition hall and that too with such decorations where the room itself looked like an excellent exhibit. That year for SHADES 04, a very simple theme of Fire was chosen, we had decorated the walls in shades of yellow and red and a few other simple designs were put up at the entry/exit, but the overall outcome was very pleasant……

SHADES 05 was an experience where I got a glimpse of what goes on behind the scene and how things are actually executed to make the event a success. The theme that year was ‘Village’ and it was by far the most well executed theme, beautifully done and pretty simple as well. The walls were covered in brown using a hand made paper. Special hoods were made for the windows from hay and a beautiful mandap was erected in the center of the hall, again made from hay and decorated by earthen bells and pots. However, that year I learnt most about the execution skills from 2k1 batch seniors. The only drawback that year was that for a lot of Hay work, craftsmen were hired and this was the area we decided to work on for the years to come.

SHADES 06; well it brings me a lot of sweet and sour memories. A very diverse theme was chosen which called for a lot of skilled work; however we failed on the planning aspect involved. With due support from the senior batch, 2-3 of our batch-mates took charge of room no. 212 and with whatever little time we had, we tried our best to do justice to the theme – Universe. The effect was that whole solar system was fit into the ED room along with an alien’s colony as well. And for the all achievements of SHADES’06 credit goes to the enthusiasm of few dedicated new kids on the block J, well I m referring to the then 1st yr students of 2k5 batch. Well, whatever we could manage, overall result was okay, there were a lot of short falls (major one being that we could barely keep up with the assigned time schedule I had to attend the inaugural in the same dirty clothes I had been wearing during the work since past 3-4 days :D ). Some of the important lessons our group learnt during that phase were the aspects of time and resource planning and also the importance of keeping the individuals working with one-self motivated, involved, content and also to ensure that they get their due credit and recognition.

SHADES 07, is of course the one closest to my heart, because at all previous events, we had the guidance of our seniors and also had to rely upon their decisions for everything. They were no saints and nor were we. However for us, a group of 3-4 students of 2k3, SHADES ’07 was a challenge and an opportunity at the same time. We wanted to prove ourselves and also set up an example for all the SHADES to come. Our goals were clear; however the path was not so easy. First of all a lot of planning was done to decide the right theme and also its contents. Secondly the next most important aspect was to ensure availability of folks to work as the scheduled dates were just after Holi and hence it was essential to motivate crowd enough and well in advance. Vaise don’t get me wrong, its not that the entire 1st yr & 2nd yr batch turned up to work, however 500 students are not required to make one Shades. Once we were successful in calling students into the hall for the first time, it was the environment of the hall and the assurance that their efforts shall fetch them the deserving credit and accolades which made some 25-30 of them stay back and lend their helping hand. Also, our experience of previous year had taught us a bit about managing people, about dividing them into teams, making them feel involved and responsible in their team and also making them realise that their work was important to the club and Shades. Also, one of the most important aspects was to understand the fact that these students from 1st yr and 2nd yr were also humans and they might have some personal commitments/dreams. Nothing authorized us to treat them as either robots or bonded labour. When this kind of limited autonomy was given to one and all working for Shades 07, we were flooded with more and more unique and creative ideas and more importantly with people willing to execute those ideas and turn them into reality. Thence finally all were witness to a SHADES hall which could boast of a mermaid’s colony, wrecked ship with treasure box, a crocodile, an octopus and numerous sea creatures swimming on the walls of a huge Ocean. Looking back, if I am asked to state one achievement of Shades 07 which I feel was the greatest among all, I have only one answer; all of us got ample time to dress up well for the inaugural, the room was cleaned and exhibits displayed well in advance.

Well if anyone, after reading this article on Shades, feels that may be organizing shades was done as public welfare of college only, I have some clarifications to offer. Shades is an experience that I can never forget, not only because of the laurels it brought for the club and myself in person, but also because of the experiences I had, have helped me on every front of life. I have till date given three job interviews; two while in college and one after passing out. During the HR part of all of these, I was able to give reference to my experiences of Shades and could answer in a much better way. Also, during last 6 months I have had some near Shades experiences on my job front as well. And though time and space don’t permit me to describe it all in detail, I can assert with full conviction that those four Shades have really helped me to evolve as a person.

To all those involved in preparations for Shades 09 and dreaming of making it a huge success, here are a few tips from what I have learnt so far. First of all, your batch is immaterial, what matters most (even more than the skill) is your dedication and the amount of effort you are willing to put in. Shades is a team work and no single person can make or break it, however it’s the effort of one and all combined together which counts. Making shades happen doesn’t necessarily means being involved 24 x 7 but it does mean that whatever time u spend, u do it willingly with sincerity and dedication. Junior batches are full of energy, they just need a direction and it’s the duty of the senior batches to utilize their (the junior’s) energies in the right way, also it is your chance to set up an example and give them a glimpse of what SHADES is meant to be and how they should carry the tradition forward in years to come. Last but definitely not the least, planning is of utmost importance, a well planned complicated theme can be executed in a much better fashion than even a simple unplanned one. Lastly, my best wishes to all of you and the club. May dear God help and guide you all in making Shades 09 a grand success.

With best wishes,
Kinshuk
12.09.2009

(The above article was written on request of a 2k5 junior who was having difficulty convincing junior batches for working for FACES)

Archives: Reasons

REASONS

She woke up to the sound of her alarm, it was already 6. She had planned to get up an hour earlier today; she had been postponing some tasks for too long. However, now she couldn’t gather the will to slip out of the sheets and get going. She tried closing her eyes and snatching some more minutes of the precious rarity; sleep, but failed even at this. She just lay still, staring at the ceiling, the fan and suddenly realized that it was time for payment of bills, but she was in no mood of thinking about them, then. Her eyes wandered to the walls and some patches caught her attention. She had promised herself, this year she will definitely have the house repainted, but the year was drawing to an end. Anyways she thought, and pushed all the worries out of her mind. She wanted to think about something happy; she wanted to remember her youth, her friends and…..

She could very well recall the last day they had spent together, before they separated. It was a bright sunny morning. They were sitting in their favourite spot near that lake and trying to keep their tears from falling by keeping quiet. Finally they could not hold it any longer; he had asked, “You are really keen on this. Is nothing going to change your mind?” All she could reply was, “You know everything and even my reasons” He took her hands in his. He felt so warm. They had spent the rest of the day sitting like that, holding hands as tears marked two paths on their cheeks. The next morning he had gone and even her life got back on track gradually.

She lay still in bed, and tried to recall the day she had told him about her decision. They had gone on a coffee date and she had been unusually quiet. He had asked her many times, “What’s the matter dear, what’s troubling you so” but she had yet not gathered enough courage to speak out her mind. Finally as they paid the bills, she knew, it was now or never. She had asked him to stroll a little before going home. He took her hands, she was sweating really badly. She had managed to say, “I can’t come with you.” He was shattered. He couldn’t believe what he heard. Theirs had been a ten year old relationship and now she was asking him to go alone. How could this be? They had the best understanding and even though he had feared that something of this type was coming, he had been praying for them to remain together. But, today, life was falling like a house of cards. She had finally given voice to his greatest fears, and he knew argument will not help their case. He closed his eyes for two moments, took hold of himself and then put his arms around her. He drew her in a hug and managed to say, “I understand dear, but I will always love you.” They had parted that way.

She thought about the days that had followed. Her guilt had been so high, but he had supported her. He explained to her about God’s bigger plan. He explained that living distantly wouldn’t diminish their love. He had made her understand that perhaps they could get back together later in life.

She had no desire to climb out of bed. She cherished every memory of him, loved recalling them. It calmed her. It gave her strength. She thought about the time when he had come running to her place with an envelope fluttering in his hand. “My project has been selected. Two years of hard work is beginning to repay.” He was just so happy. They had celebrated that day in their typical style; two cups of coffee, handful of matharis and soft music in background. However, this happiness had a tinge of sadness involved. This meant he would be working abroad for next five years. This implied that she would have to leave her wards, and this was a tough decision.

Three years ago, when he was just figuring out methods to improve the construction technologies, she had started this scheme called ‘Sparsh’. She had gathered a group of seven boys and girls, all issues of the fourth class employees of the neighbourhood, and had started teaching them. Education, she felt was of utmost importance. In these three years she had realized their strong and weak points very well. She was working hard towards making them self dependent, responsible citizens of the nation. She had her dreams for these children, but if she was to go away, all her hard work will have been in vain. She had actually fought with the parents of her wards so that they could study. She knew if she would go away, the girls would be married off and the boys will end up with their fathers’ jobs. It had been a tough task and she could not leave it incomplete. The best part had been that he had understood her thoughts. He didn’t pressurize her to accompany him. Instead they had decided to carry on with their paths, with the faith that they will meet again in future.

Future, she thought about, and realized that it was time to wake up finally. Her eldest ward was appearing for his first board exam today. She had to wish him luck. She got off the bed thinking about the tasks she had to finish today, the faith undeterred that one day God will reward them for their sacrifice, after all they all had their reasons.

*~~~~~***~~~~~*

The above story has been published in the college magazine (issue of 2007 Spring Semester).

Who Am I ?????

Nice title, isn't it? As I typed it, I wondered at its symmetry, 3 letters, then 2 & then 1 :) It looks good this way. I deviate from my topic so easily, I thought I would write something about myself and instead I got lost into this wonderful pattern.

So, coming back to my topic let me start from the intentions behind this post. Actually, when I finally decided that I would join this brigade of online writers, Blogger asked me to create my profile and one prominent question it asked me during the process was ‘About me……….(in not more than 1200 characters)’. Now reading this set me into deep thought and I kept wondering that how do I express my thoughts about my ownself in just 1200 characters (which includes space and full stops as well, just imagine :) That was when I thought about writing a post on myself. Of course this was followed by the thought about writing a post on him, but the truth remained that I didn’t start either of the posts.

Now the above paragraph is logically followed by a question that what impelled me to write today and that to why I started with the one about me. Actually, today has been a very happy-go-lucky day for me since morning. Some days everything seems to fall our way and such days fill our heart with a lot of happiness and joy. Today has been such a day for me and since morning I had been thinking about writing something about the simple things of life which fill us with so much happiness. But as the case is, writing a dil-se piece while in office is not so easy all the time, there are so many interruptions and breaks in between. As a result, even though I did start my piece on ‘the wonders of simple joy’, I could not proceed more than the initial few lines. However my mind was totally distracted from ‘Work’ and hence I started doing some random searches on Google.

On an impulse I searched about Jamalpur and then Jamalpur Gymkhana. (Why am I so obsessed with anything and everything connected to him, I really don’t know? But this is an OCD which I guess is incurable.) I found many articles but only two of them caught my fancy. There was one articles by someone born and brought up there and had been written with the same sense of belongingness which I feel for Lucknow. It was beautifully written and presented a picture I had never seen before. I did my best to suppress my urge to comment and congratulate the author on her wonderful composition. The second article was from a Gymkhana resident and talked about the things I have heard ‘him’ talk about so often. When I explored this second article, I realised that it was penned by a batchmate of his (who happens to be an excellent writer). Again I had an intense desire to read further, to comment, but once again I successfully suppressed this urge. And this time as I told myself that I should not do anything stupid (Read -- anything which might make ‘him’ feel uncomfortable), I thought of ways to convince my heart and during this tussle I was confronted with the ultimate question “Who am I?” (At that moment this question was meant to probe the ‘officialness’ of my relation with him, and was aimed at making my ‘mann’ understand that it is still not time when I should take such liberties.) And although this thought had presented itself in a different context, but it made me take the decision of writing this post.

So after this long introduction cum justification, let me come to the main point. The question still remains, “Who am I?” Answering this question is like looking through a Kaleidoscope, the pattern changes at every shift of angle and the answer changes at every change of context. Some 5 years back when I had to answer this question on a social networking site, I had made a précis like statement and had called myself ‘a serious not so ambitious girl, who wants to keep everyone around her happy’. This still explains a lot about me, I am still a serious person, and not at all ambitious, and I really want to keep people around me happy, but this statement presents only the good points about me. It looks like a statement where only the merits are being highlighted as if in a marketing campaign. Therefore, I think I need to delve a little deeper into this topic.

If I look at this question from the academic cum professional angle, I would say that I am a qualified engineer (as per my degree, please don’t question my knowledge, I would fail, I am sure) and am presently working in a reputed downstream OMC PSU of the country. I am independent in terms of my financial needs (though not in terms of my investment decisions :) I am living alone, in a flatlet provided by my company, in a city which is better known for its historic battleground than anything else. I look after myself as far as my material (read daily living) needs and I am one of the most prized customers of more than one mobile service providers (because I use 3 different connections for remaining connected to my family, friends and him). I spend around 10% of my monthly average salary in paying up these mobile bills.

I am living the life of an average upper-middle middle class Indian and many people will be happy to be in my place. It doesn’t mean that I am not happy with my life. I hail from a good family where my independence is valued. I have a set of few but good close friends with whom I share a lot. And to top it all, dear ‘Bhagwaanji’ has blessed me with him as a partner. (And I hope to be a part of his family soon.) The best part about my relation with him is that before we became a couple, we became best friends. That is how I had always imagined it to be. We became friends, then best friends and then we decided to carry our understanding further. And since last 6 years we have been waiting to cross the line and get the official tag of ‘us’. As is obvious from so many of my posts, he is at the centre of my world, therefore it is but natural that he gets a proper mention in the post intended at exploring the fundamental question of ‘Who am I?’ In fact, to a certain set of people my answer to this question would be simple one-liner; “I am ‘his’ girl” and this sentence will say it all :) Before we got into this relationship, I had never imagined that stating a fact of this sort would ever fill me with such immense happiness and pride, but this is what the reality is :)

I have answered the prime question in some of the worldly contexts but I am yet to state much about myself as a person. Actually, according to me, I am a simple person who gets awed by anything hi-fi. It is difficult for me to make friends easily, but once I befriend anyone, it shall take me very less time to open up my life’s book. Earlier, I was very non adjusting and non compromising types, but then life teaches its lessons and I have learnt a few of mine. Still, I tend to be short tempered esp. in matters pertaining to my office. Rather, I should say that I tend to get irritated easily and have some amount of OCD regarding keeping my things systematic and tidy (now this is a very ‘perspective issue’, hence opinion differences do occur) Many a times I tend to have a very rigid thinking and I often don’t accept changes easily, but it also depends upon the person initiating the change (Read – if he proposes ‘anything’ I take it as an oracle.) Though I like to present myself as very tough and strong and brave, but I get nervous easily and tend to crumple (internally) under stressful situations. I give way to my tears easily in front of him and never in front of others. I depend just so much on him, from the simplest decisions to advice on tackling office related problems.

I try to be honest in everything I do and to uphold the values I have been taught as a child. Sometimes I try to shun from the realities of life and question why real life is not as good as it seems in books. This reminds me that I am an avid reader, books have been my oldest friends (and b’day gifts too). I have evolved from reading fairy tales and children books to reading classics and sci-fi and presently I have developed a liking for the more realistic type of writings. Also, I like to write articles and stories and love to compel people into reading these. He is very supportive and appreciative about my prose and praise from him fuels my desire to write further. Also, I like to make creative gifts/cards/wall hangings and other such display items. (Sometimes I wonder if I do all these acts just to get some praise from my loved ones.) And though I feel very shy in displaying my written talent, I love to show off my craft work. I lovingly call my craft work ‘Junk-art’ but he teases me a lot on this, because I am usually buying some bits of this n that and with these ‘new’ items, I create ‘junk’ art :)

About my personality, I find myself to be an average looking Indian girl. As mentioned earlier, I am not a very outgoing person and am not very confident about my appearance, but he loves me the way I am and so I love myself the way I am. Last but not the least (what a useful phrase), I think a lot, I worry a lot and I love to plan a lot. I have filled just too many pages about the title issue but I am still unsure about if I have answered it sufficiently. I skipped some really important issues in between, like whether I am happy with my job, when I say I am not ambitious then what exactly is it that I am aspiring for, what do I really want from my life, what are my future plans and what more do I plan to write further. These issues are not directly related to the answer of ‘Who am I?’, but the answers to these define me as a person. But then, I guess we can never claim to have seen ALL patterns of a Kaleidoscope, life is more about living rather than answering mundane questions as WHO AM I?

Archives - Ladies Waiting Room@ NDLS Station

As I had mentioned earlier in my first post, I have been 'writing' since '98 even though I have started making my work public very recently. Now, after successful completion of my first online series, which received a very appreciative and motivating response from him and quite a positive feedback from many other people, I have come up with yet another 'series' idea.

This series by the name of 'Archives' is meant to be a collection of some good articles (by my assessment) I have wriiten in past before I started posting blogs. It is quite likely that some of you might have already read many of such articles (given my demanding nature :P), but I am one credit-hungry girl (as someone had called me in recent past) and therefore, I start this new attempt to attract attention.

PS::

#1. This series is not going to be of a continuous kind, hence its useless to anticipate its end, because I am not sure about that :P

#2. Also, the articles are being posted in totally random order, irrespective of chronography or any other possible method of classification.

So here I start.

Ladies Waiting Room @ NDLS Station

31st October, 2009; 20:00 hrs

Hi, Carrying a railway time table is often handy, particularly when one wishes to analyse one’s train’s route, delay and other travel plans. However, this is one use of an IR TT which neither the IR nor I myself had ever imagined to be making of it. The shine in my eyes and the smile on my face made a good Kodak moment, at the sight of this whole blank, ruled sheet of paper with the heading ‘NOTES’. I have been in quite a thoughtful mood since morning and ever since I boarded a bus from PNP to Delhi, a sudden, intense desire to write something surged within me. The most interesting part was that today was one of those rarest of rare occasions when piece of blank sheet of paper, in my luggage, was limited to a small spiral notebook in my purse. I imagined myself sitting in LWR@NDLS and filling sheets and sheets of it with my thoughts; every individual sentence taking 2-4 sheets to complete, due to my fondness for writing long, really long sentences. Thus my happiness is quite obvious. Vaise, I was just wondering that I have spent half of this precious page in just emphasising about my happiness and the associated justifications. Very soon, I’ll be running out of paper once again. What am I going to do then? I’ll most probably be guided by my first instinct in that case. When I had opened up this TT, I had plans of using the backside of the IR India map for the purpose of unloading my mind. I guess I’ll continue on the map once it’s over……………….

Vaise, I’ve observed, I am pretty good at making bhumikas. (What will this world be, if denied of the beautiful Hinglish we Indians speak and write?) However, (coming back to the original topic), good bhumikas don’t serve much purpose (and earn the title of being chaat) if not supported by equally good body and conclusion. (I have a very genuine comparison in my mind regarding this, a very apt upma, but lets refrain from it; it being a publicly written article in all the possible spaces of an IR TT :) Vaise, all inquisitive readers, are most welcome to ask me personally :) Another, deviation and what if statement --> What will this world be, if devoid of the highly expressive smileys?) Fine, CBOT (stands for Coming Back to Original Topic), I was talking about good bodies for good…………. [cont….. on map :)]

[cont….. from NOTES]

…...starts. Enough of bhumika done, I had been wondering ki what more to write to substantiate this use (or misuse, as some might say) of IR paper. [Hey readers, you might feel I am obsessed with IR; well all I have to say is that Yess you are right.] Moving, further, as I was writing, an aunty approached me and asked ki what I am writing, I really didn’t know how to reply. May be she was well acquainted with the ways of people my age, because immediately after the question she gave me MCQs options: (a) Story (b) Dictation via MP3 (c) Diary….. For me the right option was (d) None of the above. However, my post engineering encounter with MCQs have taught me one thing, that once B.Tech is over, (d) and (e) (all of the above) options are seldom correct. Add to it that the aunty had spoken with a very motherly smile and I was in a good mood since eve, I chose (c) which she accepted readily. We had a little chit chat and the she left for Bhusaval. Now, once she left I remembered a similar encounter I had at LWR@NDLS few months back. In that particular trip, I was thankfully carrying a badda wala note book with lots of blank sheets. I had lots of time and India had a cricket match. Outcome was that all my friends and most importantly Aks was busy and I was free. Even the LWR was comparatively crowded that day. I started writing a letter to Aks. Another aunty, sorry another girl (married and 3-4 years elder to me) was sitting one seat away from me, and to my utter dismay and horror, was busy peeping in my letter. Just imagine my plight, but it didn’t really affect me much due to my years of training in hiding my exam copy from my neighbour with the help of a pencil box, hanky, exam paper and what not. So, ultimately I was able to dodge her well (so much so, that I even mentioned her act to Aks in that letter :)

Vaise being different attracts attention for sure. Right now, there are some 9-10 ladies (and a few kids) in the waiting room, and I am enjoying the experience of having 4-5 pairs of eyes dedicated to me totally. (Actually out of the balance uninterested people, 3-4 are quite detached from everything surrounding them and 1-2 have declared me to be psycho and are ignoring me in full swing.)

There was one particular baby-kid in this waiting room, until a short while ago, whom I really wanted to mention in this unique entry. (Calling this prose an entry means, even I have accepted it to be a diary. However, before I mention the baby-kid, oh, I just remembered the correct word, toddler; so before I mention the toddler (who came back just now), I want to write about a particular grandma sitting just a seat from me. Actually the poor lady is really old and all an also happens to be suffering from pyriah. Actually she suddenly caught my attention by her sheer presence and distracted me from the baby. Okies, coming back to the toddler; he is small, cute, pretty and shaitan as all toddlers are, when the observer is in a good mood. On any different day, I might have called him small, noisy, hyper-active and ‘Dennis the menace’ types. However, one thing about this baby, I shall always praise and that is his shoes. They have little red lights, just above the sole, which twinkle as he walks…… I have a great affection towards these two particular varieties of shoes; (1) which tweet and queak when one walks (2) which display disco lights when one walks. I really want to have one such pair for myself, have actually asked Aks to get me one such pair :)

Moving further on, its 21:00 hrs now, I have been writing continuously since last one hour except for the brief chit chat with the Bhusaval aunty. And the hard fact at this moment is that I am nearing end of half map right now, also nearing the time of my train. After all, although I enjoy sitting in LWR@NDLS a lot and can spend hours at stretch out here, feeling pretty much at home, still my main motive for coming here is to get on board LKO mail, at least for today……………..

So lets start winding up. By the way, I am quite confused as to when did I end the bhumika and start the body, or to be even more precise, if I at all wrote a body; good or bad shall depend on you my dear reader and more than you, it will depend on your mood :) Chalo, signing off for now, with a sweet smile and a big sign.

Take care, have a good life.

KINSHUK DAS 31.10.2009, 21:10 p.m.

Courting a Gymmie - Part 5

Now & Then

(Written at 23:35 hrs, 24 Feb 2010)

Today has been a tiring day for both of us. He had a multi-disciplinary inspection team visiting from his Divisional office and I had to face some unprecedented faults just a day prior to my safety audit.

These days time moves at super fast speed, life has become too routine to live. We are still living in different cities and our relation is still in the courtship phase. We are yet to reach the formal stage where we shall enjoy the liberty of referring to each other directly; a stage after which I will be able to mention Proper nouns instead of Pronouns in articles of this variety. One major turning point in recent past has been his transition from a probationer to ADME. So, right now both of us are dealing with our jobs (read responsibilities and associated constraints) in full swing. I enjoy certain gender based freedom in my office, by the virtue of which I usually get free before dinner time (at max). However, his job is of round the clock nature and he doesn’t get liberties like me. Nowadays, I am not able to track when the day starts and when its time to sleep again. Time keeps ticking away and is always less than the required amount. We steal moments here and there to talk a little. He hasn’t even set up his ‘grihasthi’ and though there is another very caring senior at this place, yet I often get worried about him. The time we get to spend with each other has become all the more unpredictable.

In fact, even this post was not supposed to be written right now. Finally, after this tiring and trying day at work today, both of us had found some time of solace on phone and just as we were starting to recount our experiences, a hooter started wailing in background. Obviously he had to go to check and obviously I am waiting for him to return, at least just to ensure that he gets some precious hours of a good sleep. There cannot be a more fitting conclusion to this series because the mere conceptualization of this series happened because he had to leave for Jamalpur last week (at a day’s notice), to attend C’day. Courting a Gymmie, still remains to be as beautiful, as pleasant, as uncertain, as understanding and as loving as ever. And, even though the pace of life has changed immensely (he is not even based in Jamalpur any longer), yet the basic essence of the courtship is the same. This unique courtship (between him, me, Gym (and railways)) started many years ago and has become a part of our identities itself.

This series was started as a method to commemorate the Gymkhana angle of our relationship and is dedicated to him and all his fellow Gymmies.

Thanks Bhagwaanji for blessing us thus,

Thanks to him for being with me always,

Thanks to the great and unparalleled culture of Jamapur,

And thanks to all those made it through all these autobiographical chapters about issues totally unrelated (and unimportant) to them.

Once again happy life to both of us!

May God bless us.

Courting a Gymmie - Part 4

Of Uncertainties and Stability

One of the first lessons I learnt in this courtship was of uncertainty and unpredictability. It started even before he left for Jamalpur for the first time. I remember him giving all of us a treat to celebrate his selection in SCRA, just a day prior to his scheduled departure. Mind you, we were already a couple by then, so we met some one hour before the scheduled time and were having general discussions. I enquired about his journey and got to know that it was scheduled for the next day. After the treat, as we departed, I wished him ‘all the best’ and ‘happy journey’. Next day, I was so surprised to receive his call at a time when he should have been travelling as per my knowledge. He told me that he would be boarding a train the next day. Also, his passes arrived only at the very last moment. Even though so much of uncertainty was associated with his first journey itself, still it did not ring any bells in my ears. (Sometimes I wonder whether love is just blind or deaf and dumb too).

During his initial days as a firstie, I attributed all the uncertainties in our life to the dear dear seniors and their moods, in addition to the customs of the Gym (A few examples of these doubts will include activities like, when to expect or not to expect a call, when to expect or not to expect some time to sleep (for him), when to expect or not to expect a unit or a health banana ka session). However, as time passed, I started realising that this volatility was there to stay, at least as long as they didn’t become the senior most. And as more years went by, I have finally come to term with the fact that this unpredictable nature of life is an integral and inseparable part of railways. (Sometimes, it takes one’s own experience to learn).

To substantiate whatever I have stated above, let me quote few incidents which changed my perspective. One of the earliest times when he planned to visit me at my college, until he boarded the train, I was not sure if we were meeting the next day or not. It so happened, that after a lot of ‘mutual missing-missing feeling’ he finally decided that he shall come over to my city for a weekend. The plan was set, I had done my bit of work as well; like finalising what hangouts to visit, what to gift (and when) and even what to wear J (I am a systematic girl, I know). He had done his bit of work, had got the requisite passes and tickets and EQs. All was well, and we were both in a very excited mode, really looking forward to the weekend. However, as the Monday approached, some news reached him (and thus me); they had a VL scheduled for the coming Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Now, he was still a firstie, and though even firsties are allowed to bunk regular sessions and workshop, but bunking a VL is quite unthinkable. It was as if someone had poured huge amount of ice cold water over all our immediate dreams. Still, he was hopeful and I crossed my fingers.

He presented his case to a senior. However, there was yet another twist in the situation. Going by the official stats, he has never disclosed my identity (or even confirmed my existence) to anyone at Gym except his batchmates. So now the situation was that, he told his senior that he really had to go outstation on that weekend for such and such reason which was very important. (Funny scenario, personally I prefer to believe that had he disclosed about my existence, convincing the senior would had been much simpler) But the senior was very supportive and understanding of whatever reason he had provided. (Till date, I have a huge amount of respect for this particular senior J). Though the senior suggested a probable method of escape, yet he advised him against it. (It was a very brave step given his circumstances). Now, we spent the next 4 days in a lot of speculation and when on Friday evening one of my seniors enquired about his visit, all I had to say was “Not sure, he is trying his best”. Finally, he did manage to come and only after he was onboard it got confirmed that we were meeting the next day :)

Truly, this was just the beginning. Almost all our visits thereof; in any city, on any occasion and under any circumstances, this uncertainty has been a very integral part of all. What keeps the hope going is the fact that almost each of these uncertain meetings happened due to divine intervention. It is as if Bhagwaanji tests our patience and love every time before blessing us thus. And this fact has instilled our faith in our relation like nothing else. On any given day, under any circumstances, we always know at the bottom of our hearts that Bhagwaanji is with us; after all Bhagwaanji only brought us together and has been taking care of us.

It is very strange, but the fact remains that nothing has made our life n courtship more stable than this uncertainty itself. The faith that come hail, come storm, come what may, we were, are and shall always stay together….. forever. The good thing about such unpredictable moments is that once one has stood up to such unexpected turns of life, a feeling of satisfaction and trust begins to seep in; - deeper than our imagination. In my heart, I know that whatever might be the reason for any untoward situation/ circumstance or last moment change of plans, given a choice he would have avoided it just for our sake, just because of love. And when such an understanding begins to develop, obviously the relation reaches a different level altogether, as it has happened to us.

Ohh my! I guess I am deviating from the topic. From courting a Gymmie, I started a monologue on love and understanding. But, I guess, this is what courting a Gymmie is all about. It’s about unconditional love and endless understanding. It’s about expecting nothing and giving everything (That in fact is the crux of any companionship). Talking about the initial four years of our courtship, (‘Our’ referring to him, myself and this culture he had adopted), we were blessed with umpteen numbers of memorable moments, enough memories to fill us with happiness till eternity…… and all this can accredited to him, our love, his Gym and of course Bhagwaanji.

At the end of these 4 years, he became a SAM. Technically, he is no longer a Gymmie, life has shifted gears for him (and automatically for me). And if we were riding a superfast express earlier, all of a sudden we find ourselves onboard a roller coaster. All in all life has been good………….no this is an understatement, life has been simply superb. Courting a Gymmie is so much fun and even the uncertain moments add on to the stability of the relation. Didn’t I say that everything is very different from what is generally and easily understood by the ordinary janta. :P

Courting a Gymmie - Part 3

"Our" First ‘Club-Day’

Okay, so going back to the time, post first DP vacs, life at Jamalpur had taken an academic turn and time after morning assembly was spent in attending classes by VLs. As the first semester approached a climax, I became aware of another interesting aspect about IRIMEE. Even though the mid-sems were held at Jamalpur, these people had to travel to Ranchi for their end semester. (Seriously, an incredible system!) . This was when I first came to know about a ‘Saloon’.

Now, in any ordinary college, end-sem is usually followed by a sem break (n only the nerds stay back at college to hone their skills further), but at Jamalpur the case was different. I came to term with the fact that he and his whole community were not mere college students. They were trainees of railways since day 1, and B.Tech was just a part of their training. (Moreover, they were being paid for it as well.) Thus, life post end-sem took yet another turn, I understood the meaning (and importance) of ‘Shop sessions’. Every morning, it was the turn one of the batchmates to punch cards at the workshop. And as the next sem was about to start, some new terms were added to my Gym vocabulary; Shop notes, diary, presentation and Director’s interview.

By now, I was also back at my college from my winter break. And since the seniors had become somewhat more lenient towards the firsties and since we had become more open to each other, I was looking forward to more heartfelt conversations with him. However, as is customary to the invisible relation I have had with Gymkhana, I was once again in for a surprise. His b’day was fast approaching and I was busy making plans for the same, had even saved a lot of pocket money, so that I could make a hefty recharge in my phone, thereby enabling us to have a good time on phone. (Meetings were still unthinkable for both of us). As I was busy in these preparations, at the same time, he got busy into the preparations for his first ‘Club Day’. Till then, a used to think about it as a normal Annual Day cum fest, but once the preparations started, I realised the seriousness of the issue. The numerous brainstorming sessions, play practice, song practice; the level of involvement of one and all at Jamalpur for celebrating their foundation day was unbelievable. It seemed as the whole place had woken up from its slumber. He was as busy (if not more) as the time prior to his club entry. Of course, his busy-ness can be attributed to his extreme cultural bent of mind, after all he had to sing, he had to act, he had to do anything and everything related to performing arts.

And as if it was not sufficient, this was the time for the annual sports tournaments as well. Wait, let me give some background information before I start about these tournaments. I am not too sure if I have mentioned it earlier, but we both are school friends, and ours was a very peculiar school in certain ways. At our alma-mater, 200% attention was given to the acads, and sufficient importance was attributed to cultural/ literary skills as well. However, on the sports front our school had little (tending to zero) to offer. In fact, except for the badminton matches (which were held inside a huge assembly hall), there wasn’t any outdoor sports activity at my school. To be more honest it didn’t even have a playground. Of course, boys being boys played cricket at every possible place, but I never thought it meant serious business for anyone. Many boys used to meet on Sundays at pre-designated open grounds of our city and used to cultivate their sporty instincts there. In short, I never knew that he was so good at so many games. Yeah, I was well aware about his liking for football, tennis and badminton (Cricket was never a game for him, cricket spelled passion in his mind), but I never knew (or imagined) him to be so good at these. Jamalpur was a blessing to him in terms of his sporting skills.

As these tournaments started, I got to know about how passionate and how good he was at all of these, esp. tennis and baddy and squash and TT :D. Honestly I don’t remember how many prizes he won in first year for sports alone, but I do remember him winning the running shield for cultural excellence (which he won consecutively for the next 3 years to come as well). During ‘our’ first club day, he sang a solo, took part in the play, in the Gym Odyssey amongst other activities. At the same time, on ‘our’ first valentine day, he sent me a handmade card and a CD (with a song written and sung by him just for me). I am still amazed at how he managed to juggle his time so well then, given the fact that he was a firstie then, the working class people of Gymkhana (Sorry seniors, no offence intended :P).

I think I should elaborate on the cultural programs of Club Day a little. The play, I have referred to twice in the above paragraphs was not executed in any ‘nausikhiya’ amateur manner. Refraining to comment on the story, all I would like to say is that whole script was full of wonderful punches and PJs. The play was not performed directly on stage, I mean the microphones at stage were dummy, and the play was enacted in a room turned into a recording studio, and the whole script was pre-recorded and well edited. Only the enacting part was done on stage. See, I said na Club Day means serious business for these people :D Also another act which needs a special mention over here is the Gym Odyssey, till date it remains to be one of my favourites. It is a shadow act performed by the Gymmies on a pre-recorded script, describing all the aspects of life of a Gymmie at Jamalpur. This script was drafted by some Gymmies ten year his senior. Later when I received a copy of the song, the 40 min long audio of the play and the soundtrack of the Gym Odyssey, I could not stop marvelling at the high standards of the Club Day.

The first club day left a deep impression on me, and prepared me (somewhat) for the future ones to come. I can't claim that after experiencing the first C'Day, I stopped bothering him about not giving me enough time; in fact as time passed, I have troubled him more n more about this 'time' issue. However, "our" first club day was a trend setter for the ones to come. It has been an essential part of my grooming pertaining to the customs and traditions of the Gym. Last but not the least, ever since "our" first club day, I have been dreaming of the time, when I will be able to come out of my invisiblilty cloak and shall be able to officially visit Jamalpur, and if possible attend a Club Day :D

Courting a Gymmie – Part 2

The basics

My first impression of the gymkhana was of a place where he lived in a room having dimensions 20’ x 20’ x 20’. This is how he had described it to me in one of his earliest letters from Jamalpur; however description of the place was even more interesting. I vividly remember him calling Jamalpur a गांव/कस्बा/town, just that he couldn’t make up his mind what was it resembling more. Before, he was leaving for Jamalpur (the same time when we had just started our life as a couple); he had told me that once there, he will tell me about the possible modes of communication we might look forward to. So after he left, I was left in anticipation and preparing myself for the worst, I had convinced myself that at least I shall receive a letter/ phone call at some convenient time.

It was three weeks after he had been there, that I received a phone call from a number starting 06344- and I just can’t express my happiness. He hurriedly gave me some basic info and assured me that he was the fittest among his batch-mates. Of course, coming from a regular engineering college, I started imagining the variations of ragging and feared the worst. However, after a few more days of such anxiety, he found out that he could afford to give me a call every week and gradually I got convinced that things were not as bad as I had imagined them to be. To say the least, I was not really able to comprehend the kind of situation he was in. The customs n ways which he used to describe briefly, were many times totally beyond my understanding and imagination.

I can recall the day when he had called to tell me that ‘kal hamari club entry ho gayi’. Once again I was perplexed at this phrase. I tried correlating it to a normal Fresher’s party and due to our limited time on phone, he said that it was something similar to that and that he would get into the details later. Of course with passage of time, I came to understand the essence (not fully though :P) of a variety of such terms; Club-entry, FLS, UNIT, VL, ‘faanki’ and ‘pail’ and of course CLUB DAY.

After his stint at Jamalpur started, we met for the first time in October during DP break. (And this was the first time when I didn’t feel irritated at my college authorities for giving us a break at DP and not Diwali). During this meeting, I actually realised the meaning of what he meant by saying that he was the fittest of all among his batchmates. I could not believe my eyes, when I noticed that he was laming slightly as we went on a walk. During that trip, he told me many a things about Jamalpur, Gymkhana, IRIMEE and the life he had over there. And a lot of it was quite incredible. My initial reaction was of shock and disbelief, but, since he seemed happy and well adjusted in that environment, I was also somewhat relaxed.

During our conversations, he told me about the ‘Club Day’ and more importantly the fact that it is celebrated every year on the 14th of February. (I guess it must be the only celebration on this particular day which goes unopposed by the people of India at large). Since we had started our official courtship after February, and given the fact that I was full of a college girl’s romantic notions, I didn’t really understand the implications of ‘the club day’ then. Seriously, till date, at times I question that whether it is a practical joke played by destiny on all of us girls who ever thought of (or actually did, like me) courting a Gymmie. It has been almost 6 years of our courtship and we are yet to celebrate a V-day.

As time passed, the culture and traditions of Gymkhana began to unfold before me. I was looking at the complete scenario through his eyes. It was like a fort with an invisible boundary wall and I was peeping inside from the other side of it, with my face pressed hard against it. Once the DP vacations were over and both of us were back at our hostels, things became somewhat relaxed (just slightly so). Actually, things had not changed as such, just that being humans we had got accustomed to the situations.

His life had fallen into a routine and I had subconsciously started following the same :P (we girls are so adjusting na :P). A regular day started with his rushing to IRIMEE in the morning for assembly, followed by some or the other method to pass time. Lunch time was around 1330 and the most happening and fixed routine was of evening which started with tea (which he never took and always preferred Nimbu Paani) and was followed by sports session (which lasted up to dinner time). Dinner was followed by sessions of pail. On a normal day, he used to get free at max by 2330. With time, the frequency and duration of our calls increased. I started completing all my chores before I expected him to return from his dinner and subsequent sessions. I had found out some of the best potholes in my hostel and had also developed the skill to talk very softly on phone, so much so that even a person standing right next to me might not realise whether I was speaking at all.

Though we had been the best of friends since school time, yet we always had so much to say, to discuss, to share and to recount. Honestly speaking, during my four years at college, my best moments were those which I spent conversing with him. As times passed our phone calls were no longer a mere mode of communication for us, it became the method by the virtue of which we spent time with each other.

I would like to describe one such call over here. We had been talking about our initial years when we were toddlers and were busy recounting interesting anecdotes from the past. I can’t explain how exactly did it happen, but soon we were discussing ABCD and what words were associated with these alphabets in the prep standard books. We were doing well and were able to recount almost all of it except T. We thought hard but it didn’t solve any purpose. Next day while in conversation with a batchmate, he brought up this highly disturbing issue and as fate would have it, the dear batchmate came to our rescue and told us that T was for Tea Pot. Now, please don’t judge us and our conversations on the basis of this sample. It’s just that this sample was simple and comic enough to be shared on a public forum :D.