A day in the life of LIFE

Okay!. Now where was I. Ah, yes…I got into the compartment only to discover that I was allocated a side upper, and this was almost equivalent to forcing a camel to enter an ant hill.(pardon the bad analogy!).Dad always told me not to look the gift horse in the mouth. All animal crackers apart, I was a little envious of the passengers who would enjoy their sleep on the “usual” berths.

Just then, a “boy” [used in the same analogy of the "child in the previous post here] appeared out of nowhere, with some heavy metal playing so loudly that even Professor Calculus (of Tintin fame) would be startled out of his slumber. The “boy” was vertically challenged [ should be just about 5.1 ft] but horizontally followed Charle’s law [Courtesy: Physical chemisty Class XI].

I requested the dude if he could swap his berth with mine for which he flatly refused.
Some courtesy, I thought! Meanwhile I turned my sight to a visibly “drunk” co-passenger uncle who was in pajamas and a white kurta and was making as many arrangements to get to sleep as if he were on a journey from Kashmir to Kanyakumari for the next 50 odd hours.

As everyone settled down in their berths, one person pointed to an unclaimed handbag that had been lying on a vacant berth for quite some time. Specially in the light of the recent train of events, the situation we had on our hands (George Bush lingo) was not to be taken lightly.

The RPF official soon swooped down, armed with an AK 47 raising quite a few brows around. It almost was a real life operation and it was not like the way it’s shown on TV. The bag was right behind me and God knew what it contained. Everyone expected the train to be halted and an IBN crew to arrive any moment and the 6221 would soon turn into the “Super Express” as in the famed movie “Burning Train”!

It was not funny at all, but I was still reminded of the serial “How I met your Mother” , where one of the episodes had Barney placing dummy suitcases on the conveyer belt to pose as tourists in the prospect of befriending fellow passengers of the fairer sex.

The hapless Railway attendant was summoned for interrogation if he had seen anything happening. The guy was scared out of his wits and thought he was being accused of the probable crime. He was asked to check if it belonged to any of the motormen. By now the panic factor started gripping everyone even as the cold conditioned air made us freeze.

One of passengers suggested we throw the bag out of the train. But what if it exploded on the track??

The TT was soon summoned to check if he owned the bag. When both responses turned out to be negative, the RPF office took great courage and tried opening the bag. The outer flap was opened. It had layered zips beneath. The first zip was opened with utmost care and lo behold! It was empty. But the bag was heavy and definitely had something in it. The second zip was being opened even as sweat dripped off many foreheads. And as the zip clicked open, “BOOM!” a bomb! thought everyone, only to realize that it was the long horn of the engine coupled with some track turbulence which had resulted in the toilet door in banging against the frame, with the loud bang.

As the bag was dug into, a couple of neatly pressed shirts came out..
A placebo! One of them commented…Next came an envelope..It must definitely have some design and maps, a passenger muttered. And what came out was currency of around 5000 Indian rupees. My My! 5k was his reward!!! Exclaimed one..

And to the sheer surprise of everyone, what accompanied the envelope was a letter addressed to a local blood bank and this was when all of thought this was actually not what we all imagined it to be.

A couple of passengers were asked to sign as witnesses for the amount found in the bag, lest the RPF be accused of devouring the cash. It was decided that the bag be handed over to the unclaimed baggage section in the next station.

Everyone left the coach at around 12:45..a.m. with no conclusion.

Meanwhile I was left with my side upper berth which was almost inconsequential now. Nonetheless there was a “smart” lady who had got in at Cantonment and apparently had been allotted the regular upper berth atop the drunken uncle in pajamahs. Now this was a task for “Superman”, I muttered and rushed to offer a swap which she readily agreed to. As I gleefully acknowledged the “Dumb Blonde” theory, I realized that I had obtained a raw bargain. The smart ”blonde” had given me a berth that was just above the entrance of the AC compartment and had three a/c blowers adjacent to it, emulating the atmosphere in the “Abirami Snow World” in Chennai.(Yes, in Chennai now-a-days, the rains are free but snow is still to be bought)

As I dreamt about anything other than the polar bear, I faintly heard some noises around me. Apparently they had found the owner of the bag in one of the other compartments and the attendant came to wake up the witnesses to testify the co-ordinates of the bag. There were some words flying here and there about the man “forgetting” his luggage and all that. But the RPF officer announced that the issue was resolved and he would tell us the details next morning. But we never got to listen to the details.

With teeth chattering, the drunk uncle snoring, the adventure still ringing, and with the door banging into my feet jutting out of the berth, It was almost day break by the time I could catch some sleep.

The last straw on the camel’s (my) back was the arrival of the 6221 an hour before schedule which had a probability of 1/2756984. To top it all, I had developed a heavy cold and have been coughing all week and am pampering myself with “Sud Tanni” (Hot water) as part of my daily menu.!! Achchooo!!

That's right! This is precisely the train number of the "Kaveri Express" that runs daily and transports around 1276.5 people(15 coaches multiplied by 60 seats + unreserved + kids + vendors + ticketless travellers) between the metros of Bangalore and Chennai.

I had this psychological feeling of associating a train journey with summer vacations, for a train journey signified a looooong trip. Not anymore. I've very well joined the bandwagon of Indians who travel more often than they visit the restroom.

The 6221, departs at a convenient 23:45 hrs, thus providing lot of allowance for those office goers whose place of work does not mandate enough travel, which most Bangaloreans would find as close to the ideal state Carnot's engine.

After a hefty meal(I've said this before, My mother believes food is unavailable in Chennai), and a tearful farewell (they were more tears of joy though Ma doesn't admit it :)), I reached the Bengalooru city railway station at around 23:15 hrs. It's that time of the night when the stray dog on the street thinks he's the lion of the area, and hawaldar Pandu, is busy having a beedi to beat the cold weather.

The railway station as ubiquotious across India, as the Medu Vada in an Udupi restaurant, was however totally different from the sleepy city in being up and running 25*8.

I dragged my stuffed suitcase along the rugged platform and reached my coach S5, after a long walk that was as far as Dandi from Sabarmati.

I gleefully pulled out my ticket and matched S5 54, against the reservation chart that still smelt of fresh glue with which it had just been pasted.

S5 52 Santo Ben F 56
S5 53 Santa Singh M 78
S5 54 Lokesha M 28

S5 55 hey! wait a minute, 54 was supposed to be my name, unless of course my parents got fed up of calling me by the same.

I checked and re-checked!. I thought that Indian Railways was testing my logical reasoning ability and tried rearranging the letters of Lokesha to get my name in place. I then said to myself, "Abraca Dabra, choo!" still no luck. The time was 23:25. twenty mintues to departure.

I started swearing against my travel agent who I thought had bungled things up. but no! the date and train number were right.I decided to check if my berth was occupied, else I would sneak into the same and hold onto it for dear life.

As I approached the berth, I saw a 28 year old "boy" who was a macho already asleep on the berth, with his shoes at the far end. I hate it when people put their footwear on the berth thereby treating the railways as the Indian Government's dowry to them. Guessing from the namology, I figured the guy had to be from Karnataka. Not wanting to be beaten up into a pulp by the body builder, I broke into Kannada in the most reverent of tones, "Saar #54 nim berth a? nandu kooda ade ansuttey". (Sir, is this your berth? I seem to have the same number too). I expected the man to retort with annoyance, but Mr. Lokesha was more than willing to help.He allowed me to park my luggage under his berth and volunteered to sort it out with the TT. His ticket had apparently been confirmed from an RAC.

As we marched upto the TT in the adjacent bogie,"S S Sharma". I enquired, "Sirjee, zara yeh ticket dekh sakhtey hain? dono mein ek hi number hai? " He turned out to be the wrong one. We travelled to the other end of the compartment and bumped into the "real" TT.I read his nameplate "R. Selvamani". I've realized that speaking one's mother tongue adds the extra touch to the conversation. I decided to test my Tamil skills. I muttered "Saar, inda ticket koncha paakringla. Randa ticket ley orey number da irukku".(Sir will you please see these tickets they same to have the same number). By now, Mr. Lokesha thought I was going to speak Mandarin and Swahili in my next conversation.

The TT pleasantly smiled at me and said,"Saar! Ungod Class AC ku upgrade aairukku".(Sir, your class has been upgraded to AC). As pleased as punch, I triumphantly scorned the II sleeper bogie and sang praises of Lalooji even as Mr. Lokesha announced to his fellow passengers the news which was perceived by the others as if I had set a new Olympic record in Kabaddi.

It was 23:42. Three minutes to reach the compartment that was a good 5 bogies away. The gymnastics of Nadali Dementia(Should be Russian! and the relative of the Scientist who discovered Dementia - temporary loss of memory)did help me reach in time.

Once onto the train and after settling into my seat,I discovered that it was side upper! Groan! I muttered..And shortly I saw some passengers raising an alarm with a Railway police officer about unclaimed baggage right behind my seat!!

What happened to me in the Side berth? Did the unclaimed baggage contain some contraband substance that blew up? Wait for the next blog for more details on the same. Reporter Tintin would be back live :). Please dont go anywhere and do take good care of yourself

Dear Readers,

Wish you and your family greetings of the season.

Just want to quote one line that was published in the Times of India a few years ago.

Happy DiwALI and RAMzan! Who are we to draw the line?Simply awesome!ain't it?

Btw, This is probably my shortest blog :).

Celebrate life!
cheers.

How many of us have grown up, spending time in front of good old Doordarshan, watching the serial “Malgudi Days”! The melodious title music, the make-believe small town setting of Malgudi, the characters so infused with life – Swami being the most famous among them, and but of course, the illustrations and sketches, all these bring back memories of the person with the gift of Story telling – R.K. Narayan.

Born as Rasipuram Krishnaswami Ayyar Narayanaswami, R.K. Narayan is among the well known and most widely read Indian novelists who wrote in the English Language.

After completing eight years of education at the Lutheran Mission School close to his grandmother's house in Madras, he studied for a short time at the CRC High School. When his father, Rasipuram Venkatarama Krishnaswami Iyer, was appointed headmaster of the Maharaja's High School in Mysore, Narayan moved back in with his parents. To his father's consternation, Narayan was an indifferent student and after graduating, he failed the college entrance exam in English because he found the primary textbook too boring to read. He retook the exam a year later and eventually obtained his bachelor's degree from the University of Mysore.

One of the few Indian-English writers who spent nearly all his time in India, he went abroad to the United States in 1956 at the invitation of the Rockefeller Foundation. Narayan's first published work was the review of a book titled Development of Maritime Laws of 17th-Century England. He began his literary career with short stories which appeared in The Hindu, and also worked for some time as the Mysore correspondent of Justice, a Madras-based newspaper. He also took up teaching at a government school, but left the job within two days.

It was on a Vijayadashami day, that his grandmother asked him to write something in the new book and Narayan was not sure what to write. It was at this time that his mind conceptualized a small town of South India and called it Malgudi which eventually interconnected the experiences of many Indians who could relate to the same.

His writing career began with Swami and Friends.At first, he could not get the novel published. Eventually, the draft was shown to Graham Greene by a mutual friend, Purna. Greene liked it so much that he arranged for its publication. Greene was to remain a close friend and admirer of his. After that, he published a continuous stream of novels, all set in Malgudi and each dealing with different characters in that fictional place. Autobiographical content forms a significant part of some of his novels. For example, the events surrounding the death of his young wife and how he coped with the loss form the basis of The English Teacher. Mr. Narayan became his own publisher, when World WarII cut him off from Britain.

Mr. Narayan won numerous awards and honours for his works. He won the National Prize of the Sahitya Akademi, the Indian literary academy, for The Guide in 1958. He was honoured with the Padma Bhushan, a coveted Indian award, for distinguished service to literature in 1964. In 1980, R. K. Narayan was awarded the AC Benson Medal by the Royal Society of Literature. He was an honorary member of the society. He was elected an honorary member of the American Academy and Institute of Arts and Letters in 1982 and nominated to the Rajya Sabha in 1989. In addition, the University of Mysore, Delhi University and the University of Leeds conferred honorary doctorates on him. His work is unique in writing field. He was awarded Padma Vibhushan in 2000.

RKN's stories have definitely formed a part and parcel of every Indian household that would be remembered for time immemorial.Today, October 10 marks the birth centenary of this great author, and the least we could do is pass on the timeless tales written by him, to the generations that follow!

P.S. Facts courtesy - Wikipedia

Ok! Benovelent Anu has tagged me, and I've set out to answer these "good" questions, in a manner as true to myself as possible.

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn on page 18 and find line 4.

The book on my table is my personal red diary (like the one in the movie DON). Pg 18, line 4 is a white patch between two lines. In other words, it’s blank. Haven’t reached writing into page 18 yet.

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can.

Oops! My colleague’s wig just took off *giggle*

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?

Inzamam-ul-Haq’s English in the Man-of -the match ceremony. Yes, that was eons ago, my room in Chennai has no TV, coz you don’t need idiot boxes where idiots live :)

4. Without looking, guess what time it is?

I came in to work,finished checking my mails, cleared the trash and settled down to write this, so it must be TEA time.

5. Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?

What ever it is, it sure is never late to grab a coffee. Tea time does not always mandate you to drink tea, does it?

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?

The sound of silence! (isn't that an oxymoron?) - not many people are in yet, thanks to Monday morning blues

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?

Half hour ago -Thinking as to why the cow across the street prefers eating banana leaves to coconut leaves.

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?

An e-mail joke from a colleague in my mailbox, the import of which am still trying to comprehend. :(

9. What are you wearing?

A 500 Watt positive attitude and a broad smile with the ends of my lips turned up.

10. Did you dream last night?

Yes, That I flunked the Class X Bio paper for the nth time.

11. When did you last laugh?

Just Now. Thinking about what I dreamt last night.

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?

Let me consider the wall of my open cubicle:

A friend’s sketch of a falcon – breathtaking
Quotes from the Alchemist - Inspiring
A poem by Rudyard Kipling – Memorising
The Indian Tri Color - Mesmerising
A campus batch mates’ photograph which is now selling like an antique piece - just hanging :)

I also have a Couple of meaningless but whacky quotes like:

•The succeeding statement is true: The preceding statement is false
•Diplomacy is the art of saying "nice doggie" . . . 'till you can find a rock!
•Smile today. Tomorrow could be worse.
•Always and never are two words you should always remember never to use.
•If everything seems to be under control, you are not going fast enough.


13. Seen anything weird lately?

Yeah! Looked at myself in the wash room mirror - (har har har)

14. What do you think of this quiz?

QUIZ! Yippiee.. Did I answer a quiz? I thought it was a stress interview for a job opening @ Blogspot

15. What is the last film you saw?

Yesterday – The name of the Movie was "A day in the life of my life"

Producer – Mother Nature
Assistant Director - Serendipity
Actor - Me :)
Actress – Situation Vacant ! Interested candidates can apply
The Director – GOD !!

16. If you became a multimillionaire overnight, what would you buy?

Would I still have to buy,I'd anyway get a new name?? - SelvaKumar ( translating to the poor little Rich boy - Richie Rich) in Tamizh.


17. Tell me something about you that I dunno.

I detest colored “upma” (prefer the dish white) as much as mallika sherawat dislikes Salwar kameez.

18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?

Change Myself :P

19. Do you like to dance?

I love to, and am currently being coached by Prabhu Deva’s personal Dhobi

20. George Bush.

Hmmm…Hmmmm…Hmmm…. – In order to win the battle, we need to defeat the enemy in the war !! :P

21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?

Lulu (pet name)


22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?

Tintin (pet name)


23. Would you ever consider living abroad?

Nopes, Zindagirocks@India.com.

24. What do you want GOD to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?

GOD to Me : I think you got the wrong address buddy..My records don’t reflect your name.Having said that, maybe it’s because of your faulty code that My database got corrupted…lol

25. 5 people who must also do this in their blog.

Arthi
Subbu
Aphros
Anonymous
Anonymous

Glossary:
ATM : Any Time Money
Dumb IT Guy: Me
Security guard: Anyone who is at places other than where he actually should be

This list will evolve in flesh and blood as the blog proceeds.And the title of this post bears no resemblance with Chetan Bhagat's novel.

It was one of those days, when after a contented meal, and a banarsi paan, all you could ask for, is a Hot Chocolate Fudge... [Yummmm ain't it].

Well, having said that, I was feeling quite full and another mention of anything edible, would have made me adopt Gandhigiri's famed "fast unto death", for the preservation of the endangered cockroaches in T Nagar.

A chat treat at Gangotree and some corn with butter was quite filling, and as I thundered down G.N. Chetty Road @ speeds of 5.6124 kmph, my extra sharp eyes spotted an ATM - Yes, Yes, you are right! The same 2x2 cubicle that coughs up cash the moment you load its processor with the magic pin code.

This ATM belonged to a bank other than the one in which I hold an account, but my bankers, generous as they are, give me a couple of transactions without charge whenever I use an external ATM.

And the "lazy" me decided to avail this option rather than go to the end of the road to my "regular" ATM.

It was quarter to 10, and I remembered dad's words of ATMs being unsafe at night. But, the adventurous part of me, took on the challenge and entered the air conditioned match box.

I tried inserting my card and something told me, the machine was not going to accept it. Perseverant that I am, in matters which dare defy me, I forced the card into the machine till it was three quarters in. It was then the realisation dawned on me that something was hopelessly wrong and now I had to figure out a way of removing the card more like trying to snatch a bone from the jaws of a german shepherd.

Using some basic mechanical engineering skills that i had assimilated sleeping through seminars and presentations, i picked up a gem clip and thought if I could fit the width of the card into the clip, I could then pull out the same.

Meanwhile a couple of co-ATM visitors successfully completed their transactions on the machine next to mine and started suspiciously staringat me, as I tried to draw my card out. No success yet! In fact, rather than coming out, the card went almost in but was still stuck in the jaws of the machine. Rowan Atkinson would have been proud of me, as my antics of removing the card could well be converted into a whole episode of "Mr. Bean @ the ATM".

As I was pondering my next course of action, a brilliant idea struck me! - I tried to scout around for the watchman but as I moved out of the ATM, all I found were three stray dogs menacingly staring at me. I got back into the ATM and stayed there for a quarter of an hour. The stage was set like the episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. where Chandler gets stuck at an ATM when there is a power black out and has a beautiful model for company. But poor me had just a poster of a starlet advertising the Bank's latest schemes adorning the soiled walls. What a pity, that you neither get "locked out" in Indian ATM s.

As the coast got clear, I managed to reach out to the watchman, who was catching a quick nap in the basement, and after listening to my story, asked me to come back the day after to collect the card since the next day was a National Holiday -Bole toh apna Baapu ka Happy Birthday, that's why.

Now, the eerie feeling of my card being misused and my account being reduced to nil balance sent the shivers down my spine. I decided to wait till such a time that an Einstenian idea could strike.

I had once studied a chapter on Semaphores in Operating Systems which quoted ATM s as a real time example.Now was my chance to write some path breaking code on a PLA (geek gadget) to force open the ATM, like they show in the Block buster Sci-Fi movies. but alas, I am not a star programmer, In fact my programming skills are almost similar to George Bush's speech making skills. Both work best when not used.

Finally,as I star gazed looking for higher level intervention, a samaritan who came to withdraw cash, looked at me with the "You IT guys always land up in a mess, dont you?" gaze and did something which was born out of sheer common sense.

He took out his card and pushed it against mine, and voila! my card successfully entered the system and the usual status message appeared. I thanked him profusely and realized what six sigma could not achieve, plain common sense did.

Blushing, I took my card out and made my way out of the ATM, with a lesson learnt well...It's the small detail that helps rather than paralysis of analysis!

And as a compensation, the bank has decided to bring in additional options for customers stuck at ATMs. I've decided what I want - the next time the message "Do you want another function?" flashes on the screen, am gonna order for a Cold Coffe with extra cream and caramel!