Overheard...

I was out with a friend on day when he got a call. The call lasted just a few seconds but as it progressed he sounded more and more alarmed at something. 

It went like this...

Frnd: "Helloo"

.....

Frnd: "This is he. May I know who is calling?"

.....

Frnd: "Oh! You don't say!"

.....

Frnd: "You don't say!!"

.....

Frnd: "You don't say!!!"

.....

I was getting worried just looking and listening to him talk on the phone. What could be the matter? What is it that the other person is saying that is getting my friend all worked up? So many questions...

After he cut the call I asked him with all the sincerity and empathy that I could muster...

Me: "I hope every thing is OK. Who was it?"

Frnd: "Oh! He didn't say!"

!!!!!!

:-S

Embarrassing Truths!

College was one time when we did a lot of crazy things. At first they seem to impact the very essence of your survival and life, but once the time is past and you look back at it, many things kinda look funny. 

Ive written about my friend Anoob who has a knack of saying just the wrong things at the right time (or vice-versa)... The following incident happened when he was doing his engineering.

Ok, so there is a history to this story. Apparently when they were in their 1st year of engineering, a guy in their class got kicked out of college for playing peeping tom while a girl (lets call her Miss W) was taking bath in her apartment. This guy went around announcing this to the entire college and promptly got the boot.

Now, years later, when the rest of the class was in the 4th year, they were sitting around pulling each others legs and basically having fun. Anoob, as usual, was siting in a corner as if minding his own business. 

Mr X1: "Guys lets go for a movie"

Mr X2: "Yeah, thats a great idea!"

Miss X1: "Then we need to go home and get ready ASAP"

Miss W: "Yeah! and we need to be all fresh and beautiful for the date"

Mr X1: "Fresh and beautiful?? Hows that?"

Miss W: "Well, go get ready, take a bath, put on make up etc"

Mr X2: "Yeah right! You ppl? Fresh and beautiful? Like, do you even know what a bath is?? :-P"

At this point, Anoob, who like I mentioned, was apparently minding his own business,  got into the conversation and vehemently opposed Mr X2

Anoob: "HEY! Don't you dare say that she doesn't take a bath! We have proof! There are people who have seen her take a bath!!!"

:-S

What's in a name...

I did my schooling at Bhavan's Adarsha Vidyalaya (BAV), part of the Bharathiya Vidya Bhavan (BVB) group of institutions. BVB has 6 schools in Cochin and BAV is one of the best. During my time, it was a totally new school and we were the 2nd batch to pass out. Which means it was not known to the world as much. 

After school, all of us disbursed to go for higher studies, some engineering, some doctors, some B. Comm etc. Only one person, Ashwin, went on to do his Law from Ernakulam Law College. 

Now, Law College is very well known in Cochin for its enviable track record of utter Lawlessness... things are so bad that even the private bus mafia (which is very strong in cochin) would not dare to take them on... for if they were to do so, 2 things (Cardinal Rules) will automatically happen and either way, the bus owner is screwed!

1) The buses of the bus owner who dared to challenge would be completely destroyed.

2) A case will be filed against the bus owner alleging some crime against the students in the college. 

Imagine this, if a student of Law College wants to cross the road, all he does is step on to the road and raise his hands to show a Stop sign... and all vehicles are, by default, required to stop. Even if it is the Chief Minister of the state! If he doesn't, refer to Cardinal Rules above... 

Ok, let me get on with my story now that you have an idea of how Law college functions. When Aswin and a couple of frinds walked into Law College the very first time in his life, there he saw a group of vultures (read seniors) waiting to pounce on them. It was just a matter of time before the 3 of them were squatting in front of the seniors in positions that they dint know they could humanly achieve.

The first guy was asked "Which School, you low life?"

"Toc-H!" He answered proudly... and a split second later he was eating mud from the nearby puddle onto which he was graciously pushed into. 

Same question to the second guy...

"Choice!" and he too received the same treatment... boy! They sure hated guys from famous schools!

Ashwin's turn, same question..

In the worst accent possible he replied "Aaadarshaaa..." 

And the seniors let him off thinking he already had had his share of humiliation in life by going to some obscure "local" school...

:)

A dreaded thought...

Many of my girl-friends from school started getting married once they finished their studies. and after the average of 2 years of waiting period before deciding on settling down to family life. 

Initially things were quite fine... things were, well, normal... Maria gave birth to a healthy baby boy, so did San... All of us friends were obviously happy for them... there were parties to celebrate the babies' birthdays year after year... 

Then out of the blue things started changing... Not that the babies were unhealthy... they were fine... in fact, each of them were cuter than the previous ones... what was different was the explosion in numbers! 

It all started with Smrithi... One fine morning she calls us up and announces... "Guys! I gave birth! and guess what! Twins!! :)) " 

We were all ecstatic... after all twins are not what you see every other day right... Almost 2 years have passed and Smrithi has her hands full with her two wonderful boys and her MDS studies...

Last week we got a call from another of our friends, Roshni... "Guys! I gave birth! and guess what! Triplets!!! :))" 

Woah! Put the brakes on please!! What's happenin?? Last i heard, Roshni has 3 babies to feed and only 2 bottles! In short, she has more than her hands full!!

I now dread the day my girl comes to me and tells me, softly in my ear, "George, I'm pregnant! Get ready for Quads!!" I've already invested in a 4 bedroom villa and keep a stack of emergency heart attack pills ready at hand in my pocket!

:D

A very right thing to say...

My good friend Anoob (another article about him Here) has a peculiar way of either saying the very right things or the very wrong things ALL the time. For him there is no middle path. Its not that he thinks about the answers before saying it. It just comes to him spontaneously. He is too innocent at that.

Anoob did his engineering from a college in Bangalore along with my other friends Vinod and Shyam. As is usual for all engineering students across the country, they too would start studying for the term exams only a few days before it. So, in accordance to tradition, the three of them were busy studying with full concentration the day before a particularly difficult subject.

After while of futile efforts at understanding the subject, Shyam, who was sitting in the front room, out of shear frustration began to sing “Ennu theerum ente dukham innimannile...”. This is a Malayalam song that is usually sung in churches during funerals and it means “When will my troubles in this world be over...”.

The beauty of Anoobs innocence and spontaneity was revealed in full when within a fraction of a second he sang back to Shyam “Annu theerum ENTHE dukham innimannile...” meaning “Then MY troubles in this world will be over...”

:)

Birthday Blues...

I met Smrithi when we were studying in 9th std. Though she hated my guts in the first year of our acquaintance, we quickly went on to become best of friends. We became such thick friends that we would spent every free time we had at school chatting with each other and then come home and be on the phone for another 2 hours more. And this used to be a daily affair. Even though we went on to doing different things in life (she became a dentist while I am an engineer), our friendship has not wavered over the years.

Smrithi used to be called ‘Kandu’ short for ‘Kandamrugham’ (hippopotamus). I don’t know how the name originated, but I cud definitely relate to it. She used to stomp all over me. One small flick with her arms, and I would fly half way across the room and land in a heap I some obscure corner. The only time I got to kick her ass was during exam times when I used to teach her physics, chemistry and math. And boy did I make good the opportunity! But it never did her any damage, she being a Kandu and all.

I could probably fill an entire volume the size of the Mahabharatha writing about Smrithi, but for this piece ill stick to one major bone of contention between us – the issue of remembering birthdays.

We boys are mostly bad at remembering important dates and so for the last 12 years I’ve invariably got a call from her on 8th July without fail...

Smrithi: “Hii..”
Me: “Hey.. Wazzaup”

Smrithi: “Nothing much”
Me: “Alrite.. Cool”

Smrithi: “So, did you forget something?”
Me: “Errr....”

Smrithi: “Today is 8th of July”
Me: “Errr....”

Smrithi: “What’s special about today?”
Me: “Hmm... Its 4 days after 4th of July?”

Smrithi: “Grrr... No! Its my Brithday!!”
Me: “Oh! Ok!”

Smrithi: “Then say the magic words”
Me: “Umm.. ‘Give me a treat’?”

Smrithi: “Ooff... you are impossible!”
Me: “I know :-D”

This year I decided that past was past and that I would sprout a new leaf. On the 8th of July, as the clock struck 12AM, I sent her a warm SMS wishing her. I dint want to call her, not because I dint want to disturb her tranquil sleep, but cos I dint want to disturb and wake up her really cute twin 2 year old boys.

I dint get a reply until 7 Am. I expected an outflow of emotion (Yea.. She is very emotional). I expected her to cry her heart out. I expected a truck load of adoration. I expected sincere thanks. I expected to be called for a fabulous dinner as a token of appreciation. I expected all this, afterall I DID finally remember her birthday!! (For once!)

But when the reply SMS came, it simply said “Who’s this?”

:-S

P.S: Actually her husband bought her a new mob and when she transferred her contacts, my number was somehow missed out... Atleast that what she says... :-?

Cooking Class...

This is a story much much before my time... of when my Appa and Amma got married. Appa was doing his MD at Calicut Medical College when they got married and Amma was practicing. 

Since she had a bit of time off after her practice, Amma used rush home to experiment with new recipes that she came across in magazines and the likes. Infact, she still has a huge collection of recipes that she has tried and refined to perfection over the years. But in those early days her experiments were far from perfect and generally ended up burning a hole in the vessel used for the cooking. Her kitchen was akin to a high-school chemistry lab complete with everything from blasts to fumes to pungent smells to charcoaled faces!

The Guinea Pig for her cooking experiments was obviously my poor dad. But he generally put on a bold face and took all the torture in its stride. After all, he had to eat that or go to bed hungry. And there is a limit to how hungry you can stay! Besides, all the stray dogs in the area had already fled to nearby villages.

It was in this context that he was confronted one evening by one of Amma's latest experiments. It looked like some exotic soup, like some chinese preparation. It had chicken pieces and bean stalk and carrots and rice all mixed in a spicy gooey liquid. Though it dint look like much, Appa took a sip to taste it. And it tasted good. So he finished the entire soup and when Amma came back from the kitchen, he handed over the plate for a refill saying...

"Great Soup! What is it called?"

"Biriyani!!!" came Amma's irritated reply...

:-)

Of Pots and Pans...

Way back when we were in school, my friend Vinod’s dad bought a complete set of non-stick cookware set as a gift for aunty. Non-stick cookware was such a novelty back then (and a very expensive one at that) that it was almost considered a Prestige Issue (pardon the pun) to own even one. And here was aunty with a complete set!

Now, I don’t mean to hint here that Vinod’s family was looking for a lot of Prestige (again, pardon the pun). Rather his dad loved his mom so much that he bought her the entire set so as to relieve her from the burden of washing away grime and dried up charcoal from the utensils after a hard evenings work of cooking the family dinner.

A couple of days after this the whole family went out leaving the domestic help in charge of cooking and cleaning. When they returned after a couple of hours of shopping, aunty was greeted by a full set of gleaming, swanky new set of aluminum utensils. And she couldn’t find her non-stick cookware anywhere.

When she asked the domestic help, she replied “Madam, I found all the utensils black in colour covered with charcoal due to burnt food... So I took a lot of pains to clean each of them until they gleamed... Good no?”

What culd aunty say to such dedication? Even if it meant having to see her precious gift shining in all its glory!!!

:-S

Meditation, its not always what it seems...

My first job was at Bangalore and being a bachelor way back then (Yea, it was along time back), I stayed with a bunch of my equally bachelor school friends - Vinod, Rohit, Anoob and Shyam. All the 5 of us used to be cramped in a tiny 1 BHK house. I mean the place was so tiny that to go to the toilet, you had to turn your bum to face the indian toilet, move in gingerly, make sure you had your plastic mug in your hands and then just sit. And for the next 5-10 mins, you can enjoy the clostrophobic feeling of a "made-to-order" size toilet.

My friends are great guys... truely world class. Each has his own set of tales. Ill talk about them sometime i guess. Anoob was a major Bhakt of Sri Sri Ravi Shanker. If he could help it, he would not for the world miss his morning and evening Art of Living yoga sessions. All of us would wake up to the enchanting sounds of his "OOooMMmm" and heavy breathing exercises.

As I mentioned, he did his yoga in the mornings and evenings. So we were surprised to hear him chant the Mantra in the afternoon. As was the custom at our house, no one disturbed him. But his "OOooMMmm"s became increasingly regular and one too many. We were wondering why he was chanting so many "OM"s. After a while, we could take it no more and decided to see what he was really upto.

We opened the door to bedroom to find Anoob lying on the bed as if contempltating though he had a distorted look on his face... Just as we were about to ask him abou all the "OM"s, he let out another even louder one...

"UUUuuuMMMMmmmm" We realised, He had just had a heavy lunch and he was burping..

:)

The mystery of the disappearing food...

Back when my sisters and I were studying in school my mom experienced a series of very surreal and bizarre incidents involving what she thought was a haunting. 

It all started with food vanishing from kitchen tops, even though they used to be covered. My mom attributed these first incidents to a few cats that were living in the vicinity. This belief was reinforced when she caught a cat red handed at the act of stealing food from her reserves. But try as she might, she could not see any way by which food was disappearing even when covered. I mean, cats could not eat food and then put the lid back again to cover their tracks could they? 

Consequently she started keeping the food inside the fridge so as to thwart any attempts by cats at gaining access to the food. A few days passed peacefully and Amma had all but forgotten the incidents. She now truly believed that cats were the reason for the food crisis at our house.

Then it started again. Food started disappearing from inside the fridge... and she would not even know of this until she opened a dabba to heat the food for us during lunch or dinner time. This was coz the vessel which contained the food would not seem to be touched in any way. It would be inside the fridge just as she had kept it the previous night... but the dabba itself would be empty!!! There was no sign of entry or any proof on it being handled by a human being. To her,  it was the real sign of some unearthly presence. 

"Maybe it is the Athma of a poor soul who died of hunger" she would tell us.

This really freaked her out and after this happened a few more times I noticed that she started praying a lot more. She became a lot more pious. She was convinced that this was a haunting. She even started keeping food outside the fridge for the "poor soul". After this food began disappearing from both inside and outside the fridge. Evidently, the neighbourhood cats were having a gala time. Try as he might even my dad could not drill sense into her.

My sister finally got through and convinced her that it was all quite impossible and that there had to be some rational explanation to this. She convinced Amma to sit up with her the next night to finally see what was going on.  

So the next night my mom and sister hid at a corner of the kitchen strategically placed to observe what was happening. My mom was obviously in an excited state of mind. Around the twilight hours, they heard the door creaking open. The creak was so faint that they wouldn't know it unless they listened carefully. They heard the muffled sounds feet. The perpetuator opened the fridge and took out one of the vessels with a quick sleight of his hand and started hogging the food. 

With not a moment to loose, my mom and sister moved in to apprehend the thief - the one who had my mom at her wits end for the last couple of weeks... They pounced on him and overpowered him in a swift motion. He did not even let out a scream or shout... rather he could not...

My mouth was full of the stolen chicken!!!

:-)

Casting couch...

If you've been to school and have not broken a bone, then I'd say you've lost out on half the fun. For the record, I've had one and a half times the fun compared to the non-bone breaking guy. Two of those incidents were so... well, embarrassing, that I'd rather not mention it. Reason being there was not much punch to it. On the contrary it was I who got punched.

But the third incident was different. It put me on the school map. The guy who... well, let me not spoil the story before you read it below. 

I still remember that day. It was just perfect Kochi weather - hot and humid seasoned with a li'l bit of smog from the nearby industrial area. We had 2 hours of back-to-back PT. (I believe one of the teachers fell to the ravages of either the smog or the students. Which is worse, you decide.) Being the athlete that I am, I usually used to walk around giving pointers to the rest of the junta playing everything from badminton to volleyball to football. 

Back then it was a lesser known matter that I had absolutely no idea of these games and did the above just so as to create an aura of being a person in the know and to escape having to play. Whenever someone called me to play some game, I'd either go deaf or pretend that someone just called me from the other side of the playground. Sometimes, there would not be anyone there and people would be all confused. But on that fateful day, all this changed.

Looking back, I guess I pulled the "Someone calling me" stunt a bit too often. There were a bunch of guys playing football and one of the 2 teams had a player short. I was on the edge of the ground shouting pointers to the teams. After a few minutes, one of the members of the disadvantaged team came up to me and asked me to join them. Before i cud pull my time tested stunt he said:

"George, there is no one calling you for help. Join us if you are a man!"

Well, that did it! I could not back out now. My girl fan club was close by looking at me. I had to join the game and prove my manliness. 

Reluctantly I stepped in amidst cheering from the girls. Man, I really had to put on a good show now. I was given the opportunity to kick off the ball from our end of the ground. 

I scanned the ground for the teams.

I dint know which guy belonged to which team.

Frankly, i dint care. I concentrated.

I had to get the ball to the other side of the ground.

The ball was a standard football made of black and white hexagons sewed together. 

I ran at the ball and with all the strength I could muster, gave it a powerful kick. Simultaneously I heard a crack... and I passed out. When I woke up I was in the nearby hospital with  my leg on a cast. I had broken a bone on my leg from kicking the ball :-S

For the next 4 weeks, I was limping on crutches and my secret was out in the open. 

Luckily my girl fans took pity on my condition and I was able to use a couple of them as live crutches atleast for a few hours a day. Sigh! How I wished my cast dint have to come off so soon... 

:-)

The Bike Race

Those of you who read my previous post on my sporting capabilities will appreciate that im not too good at it... But you will also appreciate that i do not shy away from a challenge either :) In that same spirit, i entered a bike race while i was in college. 

I got my first bike just before i joined college as a gift from my mom for passing the Kerala entrance and securing admission in my college. So you can imagine how charged up i was when barely a few months from getting the bike i got the opportunity to showcase my driving skills. I spent days... nay, weeks day dreaming of utter glory. Unlike normal athletics where your muscles and stamina are tested, this did not require ay of that. all it required was driving skills and a good bike... 

And damn it! i had the best bike there was. A Yamaha RXZ. THE bike of the day. There was no other bike like that in college (Mine being a pretty small one at that!). I prepared hard for the race. Used to get up in the morning and go riding. I knew the grounds of my college and they were no mean feat. i reckoned it would be kinda cross country. And hence i drove the bike to Munnar dragging along sheer cliffs and jagged rocks. One mistake, and i wouldnt be here writing this blog. 

The D-Day arrived. I was ready. Clothed in racing helmets and jackets and gloves and trainers. I looked around to see the other participants either in regular jeans or in Mundu (Traditional Kerala attire)... Poor devils... they had no chance!

We got ready at the starting line. I was revving my engine. I cud see the ladies shouting and waving. Man! im gonna be smothered after i win this... and its gonna be a breeze. 

The whistle blew.... I zoomed ahead leaving the rest to eat my dust. Before i knew it, i was at the finish line. That was pretty short... just a 50 meter race. maybe it was a pure drag race... anyway it dint matter... i was first.. I turned back at the slow pokes... 

But why were they sooo slow? 

The surprise... the shame... The irony of it all!!! 

It was a Slow Bike Race... The LAST one across is FIRST!!! :-S

The day i ran for my life...

I’ve never been the athletic type. Sports and games have never appealed to me. So it naturally follows that I was quite the unhealthy, scrawny(well, not really) and timid kid. Infact, so much so that I couldn’t raise a stone if it were attached to a dragonfly! Up until my 7th std, my favourite lunch time activity was catching tadpoles in the near by spring and ofcourse eating lunch. Don’t start being squeamish, I never did both at the same time! Sheesh…

But this was not always the case. There was the time when I was in the NCC. I was fit as a fiddle. I could march across fields and mountains. I could lift boulders with my strong muscular arms. I could swim across raging rivers. I was your regular boy next door Arnold Swarchenegger. Heck! Who am I kidding.. I was more like a pig on steroids!! Nowadays, my pathetically puny body cannot even walk 2 paces without having an asthmatic attack.

Back then I never wasted an opportunity during the annual sports days in my school to show off the little athletics skills that I did have… namely, iddily and pie eating contests. These were part of the homour sports we used to have. Sadly, I wouldn’t come first even for that either… there were bigger and better pigs around! But this post is not about how piggy I can get, rather about a time when I entered the 800m race.

Like I mentioned before, I never wasted an opportunity. But usually I was not allowed to enter as there were limits kept on the number of ppl who are allowed to enter from a house. As luck would have it, there was a shortage of athletes for the 800m event and I jumped at the chance and entered. Our physical education master gave me a scornful look as he put in my name. And my house captain was looking around for a replacement so as to escape the humiliation of having one of his house come in last. I think he was secretly hoping that I would atleast finish the race. Little did they know I was going to shock them and the entire school in a couple of minutes.

The race consisted of running 4 rounds on the 200m track that was set up for the games. I took up my position on the 3rd track from the inside. I looked around to see my fellow athletes and found all of them with hungry looks on their faces as if they were going to run all over my tired ass. I looked around to the spectators. There were none. The 800m event was not a very popular event. Good, I thought. Less the number of people who see me the better. The Phy ED master asked us to get ready. And I saw all of them go down on their knees ready for the sprint. I dint bother! Hey I was not there for the glory, I was there purely for the shame!!! I too got into position, and by that I mean standing there wondering about how best to avoid being trampled.

He blew the whistle. I shut my eyes and started running like I never did before. Occasionally I opend my eyes to see if I was on the track. After what seemed an eternity and many many rounds, I started hearing people shouting at me in encouragement. There were really rubbing it in weren’t they. Did the others already finish the race 2 hours back?

I opened my eyes to a shocking sight. There was the finish line and across it the red ribbon welcoming the winner. And I was in front of everyone! I glance back to take a look at the others. The fastest boy in school, Mr Joseph, was a few meters behind me. I looked around to see a swarm of open mouthed spectators cheering me on. I doubled my effort to run even faster. Maybe ill set a school record.

Thru the corner of my eye I could see Joseph gaining on me. I could not loose now. Every muscle in my body was aching. But it dint matter. What mattered was that I was in front of everyone else. I strained. Just a few meters more. I ran as fast as my chubby legs would take me. But ultimately Joseph beat me and passed the beautiful red ribbon inches ahead of me.

A moment of silence and then the crowd erupted. All my housemates came rushing to me. Our house was trailing in the over all rankings. And all of a sudden the second prize belonged to our house… precious second prize. I was down. People piled all over me. Girls boys… there was no stopping them.

Then the Phy ED master came up to us blowing his whistle. Maybe that’s how he salutes winners, I thought. He was waving his arms frantically over his head. he was shouting. Something about my second prize being null and void!! What?! Why?! How unfair. We demanded the reason for the preferential treatment. And he readily gave it to us.

We were’t awarded the second prize because… I never completed the race… I was a good one lap behind everyone!!! :-S

Having the cane (cake), and (b)eating it too

That I was quite the rotten apple when I was young would be an understatement!! I used to get under my moms skin, not study word, flunk all exams and basically waste my life away. This was what i used to do from class 1 to class 7. Well, I guess i was just like any other normal kid :D... Could I have been THAT bad, u ask? Well, hows this for proof? my mom used to take leave from hospital and come and sit at my school during my exams... y? cos I used to walk out of the exam hall 5 mins after the exam started :)... after I did that for the first few exams, my mom would come and sit outside the exam hall and promptly drive me back in if i came out... My poor mom... :) like I told u, I used to be quite the character back then...

I feel it had a lot, in fact everything, to do with the school i was in. St. Thomas Residential School... Apparently the best in the business in trivandrum... yea... I know... I was at trivandrum during my early years... but to me, that was one sick school... and i hated it with all my heart... if my mom had not made the decision to pull me outta there and shift me to cochin, i wud have become the worst person who walked the earth... a total uneducated duffer... well, since she did move me out, im now just a regular joe duffer :D

Anyway, thats a story for a later time.. Now, my mom had a cane (Chooral) with which she used to beat me black and blue when i did something wrong... I used to get a good dose of Chooral Kashayam almost on a daily basis... in my moms desparate attempts to right me... Then, the inevitable happened... NO, I dint right myself, rather the cane broke in two in the attempt!! (u can imagine the trashing I used to get if that had to happen :) ). I think this was when I was in 5th std or something... And the innocent, loving guy that I was, I felt really really bad that the cane broke because of me... I loved my mom a lot (still do) and I dint want her to feel bad... so what did I do? the logical thing ofcourse according to my 10 yr old mind... well the very next day when I came home from school, I had in my hand a longer and much more sturdy cane that I picked up from the school grounds which I presented to my mom, beaming, so that she cud continue trashing me :) they (my parents and sisters) still talk of this incident... :)