The Perfect Handshake

I don’t like handshakes.

There! I said it. I don’t like them. 

To start with I have never been able to master this simple mode of modern greetings used by the mankind. But more importantly there is always this constant concern on my mind, about the places that hand has been before it was forced into my palms.

We Indians love to take our hands to places. I will stop there and not elaborate further. But I have this little paranoia of being in the same places indirectly when I shake hands with another gentleman.

I don’t mind shaking hands with the fairer class, as it is my assumptions that they are more concerned about personal hygiene than the class I belong to. This is my part of mistrust and I can’t help it.

The second (or rather the first) issue is I don’t know what makes a perfect handshake. Should the grip be firm or loose, hands should be vertical or horizontal, shall I use both my hands, what is the ideal duration for which we should hold our hands (without being branded gayish), shall I lean forward or stand straight, who should initiate the handshake are some of the numerous questions that starts plaguing my mind as soon as I see a situation where I might have to shake hands with the other person.

Who should initiate?

I have no problems in initiating the handshake, but what if other person does not respond. There is a small but real chance of that happening. Does the “Perfect Handshake Manual by the Ministry of Hands” say something about it?

The firmness of the grip is another concern that bothers me very much. I was asked to shake hands time and again because my boss didn’t think my grip was firm enough. How much I wanted to tell him, that I just did not want to hurt him. After all he represents our country in one of the sports. But finally I mastered the technique, only to be confused the next time.

It was a sort of uneasy whine when I used the same firm grip on one of my female colleagues. So here was my lesson, never use the same grip for everyone.

I admit it. I am the king of the “handshake goof-ups” and if there was ever a record book to maintain the same, I will win the crown hands-down.

While cant we simply abolish this germ-ridden tradition and replace it with our simple Hindustani Namaste is difficult for me to understand. You don’t have to worry about the grip, duration, who initiates it, and other such mundane details. And for a change I might be able to abdicate my throne. 

Jindal Diary: Bilaspur to New Delhi

Why do they have a board saying “Foot Over Bridge” on the Foot Over Bridge itself? As if I was somehow going to miss the tiny bridge with stairs and wonder how to cross to the next platform. Or worse still, a person comes to the FOB and realizes “Oh my God! How do I use this thing, I don’t even know what to call it!” What would have made sense is a board placed some distance prior to the FOB telling the person to expect a FOB so that he does rams into the tiny FOB.

Have you ever faced a problem because of abundance of facilities? It so happened, that to catch a connecting train I had to wait on the platform for nearly 6 hours. The platform where I was supposed to wait had in fact too many facilities available for my comfort? Yes! You heard me right, the station and platforms are so well equipped that it is creating a nuisance for you. The intellectuals in you might argue, why I didn’t use the waiting room.

I have a basic problem with the waiting rooms. Somehow I don’t like the look and feel of waiting rooms. I hate waiting. And waiting rooms are especially made for waiting. So as I enter a waiting hall, it reminds me that I am waiting for something. It does not suit me. Hence I prefer to choose a quite little corner on a platform, sit there. Once seated properly I either watch some series or complete that novel I was reading last time.

Now in this particular platform, I went from end to end and there were lots of corners with very little commutation of people. There was one little problem though!

The platform has so many appropriately distanced loud speakers, that it was impossible for me, to find a place where I won’t be hearing the constant announcements of coming trains. Apart from the sound, it irritated me as it sort of teased me, “look buddy, here comes the next train, when is yours coming?”

I will cross one speaker and start moving away from it, feeling really happy as the sound will start diminishing and then suddenly I would enter into the zone of the next speaker. It was really difficult.

Talk of extremes and I have it all. During one of my journeys I travelled a whole 6 hours standing on one foot in the general compartment that was so cramped that even a Raju Shrivastav joke won’t do justice to it. And here I am, sitting in a 3^rd AC coach, occupying one seat and having reservation for two seats.

Haha! Twists of life, they amaze me. Some might ask why I book two seats if I was travelling alone. Well the scene is that it was not always like this. You make plans with someone and they agree upon it, you get the tickets booked only to face despair and disappointment.

Sitting in front of me are two Punjs aunties. Now why do I hate (don’t like) people who give away their ethnicity just by the way they dress. I have nothing against Punjs. Even it was two Marwari, a sect to where I belong; I would not have liked it. To top it all they are talking in the regional language. Now I realize that I was living in a myth. I was under the impression that I like Punjabi language but that was Gurdas Mann playing tricks with me.