Why I miss my own love story

I was reading the book – 2 States- by Chetan Bhagat. Really a nice read!

The good thing is that it captures the stereotypes of the North-South divide in a really funny manner, yet it never wavers away from the facts. Many a time I will be reading a certain piece of para and I realized, “arey bhai ye to mere saath bhi ho chukka hai.”

The Tam-Brahm dude I was talking to last week was behaving in the same manner as mentioned in this novel. Or the Punjabi Aunty I met last Sunday was exactly the same as the Bobby Aunty of the novel.

This post of mine is neither a review of the novel; neither is it a lecture on perfect Indian behaviour. The simple fact is; after reading this novel, I am starting to miss my own love story.

Don’t be startled! First hear my side of the story.

“Yaar badi plain and simple bita di. Kabhie gharwalo ko koi tension hi nahi di...” :P 

It would have been really nice, if I took a South Indian girl to my mother and said, “ye le maa teri hone wali bahu.”

Just imagining her next expression is giving me fits of laughter. And add to that my other relatives, my millions of nose-poking uncles and aunties and their zillions of offspring – who will henceforth be known as my cousins.

You might call me a sadist bastard; yes that is what I am. And I really don’t care about the snoot society. I enjoy the misery of people around me. And so does everybody else. Do you really believe that your friend care for you when he enquires about your recent breakup. Or your uncle and aunty really are worried for you when they console you during your period of unemployment. Feasting on other people misery has been the favourite past time of everyone. And I am pretty sure that jealousy was the first emotion humans experienced, much before love or hate. So yes I am a sadist bastard.

It all started with my cousin getting married to a non-Marwari girl. Nothing special about it or so I thought. Then suddenly I realized the growing concern of everyone around me to teach me about values, traditions, demerits of love marriage, problems of inter-caste relationships, etcetera, etcetera!

It didn’t help the matter that the idiot cousin has been the closest to what I call a friend since childhood. We practically discuss every small matter between us.

The scene became so comical that now only you have to say my name and a girl’s name in one complete sentence together. It was enough to get everyone charged up and come rushing to me.

You might think, “I would be pissed off at all this scepticism and mistrust.” On the contrary I was enjoying all this. To make the matter spicier I would add some random names to the discussion as if I spelt the name by mistake.

Aah! Those were the golden days.

“Per abhi kuch nahi hai naa yaar, gharwalo ko pareshan karne ko...”

That is why I thought, “how about an original tale instead of all the fake rumours.” And not just any tale, but a proper filmy one complete with the north-south divide. I am ready to throw in the rich-poor divide as well. But the problem is with my IIM salary, I am left neither rich nor poor. So I have to forgo this twist.

In all this thoughts I really pity my friends who had a love relationship and were married happily and effortlessly. Do you really know what you missed?

Yaar thoda struggle karte, ghar wale nahi mante, thoda tum unhe manate, thoda wo tumhe samjhate, is beech ladki ki shaadi kahi aur fix ho jati, tab to life mein twist aata.

Jindal Diary- Trip to Ranchi and Dhanbad

After a long time I used Indian railways so extensively. Somehow I thought I won’t be able to do this kind of travel anymore. But as Sunny Deol said in his iconic movie JEET, “In haathon ne hathyaar sirf chode hai, chalana nahi bhule hai”, I guess the same applies to me as well.

I might have left the ticketless kind of travel but I have not forgotten the charm of travelling without any pre-planning.

Thankfully, I did not have to travel like this

Mr. Alter was going to his place – Ranchi, to meet his father. Just like that he asked whether I would like to join him to a trip to Ranchi. The day has been pretty tiring one with the workshop on “Goal setting”. (For a change I was organizing the workshop and not attending the workshop as a participant.  More on this in a separate blog) But still I couldn’t resist the temptation to go out and explore a new city. I agreed and decided to call Mr. Dude and asked him whether he would like to join. He readily agreed.

The time was 8:00 pm and we had to leave by 8:30 pm. Dude will be picked on the way. We reached Raigarh station, took a general ticket and boarded the Sleeper coach of a train. As soon as the train left the station two Thulla came and enquired about our ticket. I usually get really scared of such scene and I was prepared to shell out some money to them. But what followed next is beyond my imagination.

Thulla no 1: (he later turned out to be an ex-military jawan) - “This is not a valid ticket. Pay the fine.”

He along with the other one first tries to get some money from us. In a few moments a heated argument ensued between the two Thulla and Mr. Alter.

By this time I had totally submitted myself to the leadership of Alter. 

I don’t know how he did it or what he said. But after five minutes the senior of Thulla 1 was chatting with Alter in a slightly apologetic tone, as if the GRP personnel and the Ticket checker have committed some mistakes by asking us for our ticket. During the discussion only Alter had to do was to pronounce their names 2-3 times, throw in terms like Baroda house in New Delhi, honour, dignity and blah blah blah. I was there but if you ask me to repeat the process, I will go blank. It is only the genius of Alter and only he can do that.

Not with my polished MBA degree and rustic small town upbringing can I achieve this feat. What followed next was even more hysterical. After few moments Alter and the senior GRP were talking about their families, how GRP senior is not very happy with his future prospects, where his father resides currently, blah blah blah.

Is it really happening I was thinking? And in all these I don’t know what scared the TT but he was not ready to be in our vicinity for more than 15 seconds. As if by being in the presence of our existence, he will evaporate. 

At the end of all, what does our Alter says, “This is why I like travelling without planning and reservation. Bada maza aata hai ye sab karne mein. Dekha kitna achcha time pass ho gaya.”

This was the time I decide “Bhai ye aadmi to ekdum ALTER hai.”

We reached Ranchi the next morning after changing one more train. In the next train as well a group of TT tried to attack us. But by this time I have grown confident of Alter’s leadership skills. And I was not to be proved wrong. The same fate followed this group as well. They left us without any money in their pocket.

After a day’s stay at Ranchi, I decided to visit my place – Dhanbad. I took Dude with me. There is no tourist place in Dhanbad, but there is something there that I guess no other place in the country can offer- fire coming out from the underground mines and can be seen from the cracks. Surprisingly people living in the vicinity are not bothered a bit about it.

It was time to bid goodbye to Dhanbad and back to Ranchi where we will meet Alter and take a train back to Raigarh. Alter had one more arrow in his armour to impress us.

Bhai khana bada shandar banata hai.

I thought, “ kash ladki hota to propose kar deta... J”

We took a train back to Rourkela, then to Jharsuguda, to Raigarh then a auto to Ghadi Chawk and finally a bus back to Tamnar- meri Karm Bhumi. At the end of all these I realize... well I realize nothing!

Every story does not need to have a morale! Aise hi time pass ke liye bhi to likh sakte hai naa story, yaar.

Till then I am waiting for my next trip. 

Lost in Wilderness - Jindal Diary

Time follows its own pace here

It has got its own reckoning

No bottles to empty here,

No cans to gauge the night remaining

Gone are the people around

And gone are the days

Lost in this wilderness - the feelings,

Misty like a haze

­

Is it a reality, or just the numbness of my effort?

Or is it just the life gone by, structured like a cohort

Thoughts have abandoned me

Thoughts!

For they never abandoned me before

Clearly it is something, something that I abhor

Is it something trivial or some kind of mental maze?

Is it something real or some kind of tricky cage?

Confused, I am!

For thoughts were my companion

Never had they showed any resistance

Never had they left me in a canyon

They are ONE purpose I don’t like to lose

Wild they may be, but they helped me cruise

Is it the travail of my destiny?

Or probably an insignificant mutiny

My rational brain looks for reasons

Reasons!

The tools of intelligentsia or the shield of defeated

Hard to fathom upon, the uncertainty is better not repeated

But reasons it is my friend, I have to find,

Not for the life that has passed by me,

But probably, maybe, the life not yet passed by me

In my predicament, as I pass down the rows of trees

It becomes hard to imagine

Whether it is the lane of reality or boulevard of my dreams

Travesty of a confused soul, parade of a clear mind

I am alone and it is not just me, we are alone

It is hard to imagine the difference, they seem like a clone

Whom to believe

The clichéd reality or the powdery illusion

What is dearer to me now?

Slowly it is becoming like dreams, you can’t stop dreams

And suddenly in dreams you are capable of everything

A committed dealing or just a casual fling

Then I realize, I might just being theatrical

Lost in this wilderness, I act whimsical

How can I be lost, when there is entire civilization

I cannot be gloomy, and I realize it is just my fixation

But again as I pass down the rows of trees

It becomes hard to imagine

Whether it is the lane of reality or boulevard of my dreams