A trip to Vijayawada, a few packets of Kurkure, and a Kinley water bottle.

It sums it all. I mean my absence on the web.

I unexpectedly took a journey that was long and unimaginably boring. Actually, I had never been to Vijayawada. Consequently, when a client requested me to meet him there, I found the idea rather tempting. So, the next morning, I caught a bus that headed towards Vijayawada. Although the journey was long, it was this rollicking telugu movie which was played on the bus that cut the journey short. The film was a take off on the English movie, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (with actors: Steve Martin and Michael Cain). I don’t quite recollect the title of the telugu movie but it would be injustice if I say the movie was hilarious. Had it not been for the armrests on the seat, I would have been down on the floor laughing. One thing I truly admire about telugu movies is, you absolutely have no parallels when it comes to witty humour. The slang, the punch lines, the versatility … I somehow feel the southern film makers are miles ahead when it comes to scripting side-splitting humour.

The movie which followed was also equally hilarious. It was as if the driver somehow knew that a guy who is fanatical about telugu movies was clandestinely undertaking a journey to Vijayawada. Or, it could be that the driver is just another individual who relishes humourous telugu movies. Either way, the journey wasn’t a bit drab or boring, I mean at least in the ‘first half’.

Since I had taken an early morning bus, I couldn’t gorge on my breakfast. So when the bus took a halt, the hunger pangs made me scamper to the nearest refreshment counter, where Juhi Chawla with her innocent smile on the Kurkure Packet beckoned me to own her. I bought two Juhi Chawlas along with a bottle of Kinley water bottle. (Contrary to the belief that water is tasteless, Kinley water tastes wonderful! Trust me). That was my ration for the day. After I landed at Vijayawada, The meeting with the client went off smoothly. He had a huge property and anyone could make out he was filthily rich by looking at his two Mercedes Benzes in the portico which dwarfed against a colossal structure – his office! Surrounding it was his 80-acre land. The client was young, effervescent and dynamic, radiating optimism from every angle. We struck a chord somewhere while our interests tallied. Finally, we decided to meet one last time before finalizing on the business trivia.

The journey back was boring. I got stuck in Vijayawada for what seemed like years. The place where I stayed lacked internet accessibility. Moreover, on the return journey, there were no telugu movies. That’s because there was no TV on the bus. But APSRTC promptly charged the same amount for the ticket as that of a DVD coach! Pathetic. Furthermore, the seat I sat in was extremely uncomfortable it felt like I was traveling in an auto. And imagine an auto ride that is around 450 kms. Unimaginable!

I reached Hyderabad at an unearthly time of about 2.30 am. Stepped out of the bus into the inky darkness and thought: Is life really worth all this? Maybe…

Never Too Late!

Gosh! I missed out on the Valentine Day’s post. So, I want to make up for it and post a few lines that are in perfect harmony with my understanding of love. No prizes for guessing from where it’s taken. But, believe me; the lines are awe-inspiring.

Love is patient. Love is kind. Love is not jealous. Love does not brag. Love is not arrogant. Love does not act unbecomingly. Love does not seek its own. Love is not provoked. Love does not take into account a wrong. Love does not rejoice in unrighteousness. Love rejoices in the truth. Love bears all things. Love believes all things. Love hopes all things. Love endures all things.

One Fine Afternoon

August 7th 2007. It was an afternoon. The sun took a break and hid itself in a cloud. The breeze was gentle and pleasant. The leaves on the plants around our house were rustling. It was like any other perfect afternoon. Nudged by these factors, my mind thought of sleep. The body quickly agreed. And I slowly slithered into the bed to catch my forty winks. As I was drifting off to sleep, I heard a knock on the door then heard my mom say, “Could you drop me off at the clinic? I need to get a new prescription for the medicines.” Frankly, I was in no mood to drive. Furthermore, my mind was already away in the dreamland and I wasn’t feeling like bringing it back to reality. I half-sleepily murmured, “Can’t you go to the doctor tomorrow?” She said, “No way.” And mind you, when my mom says, “No”, believe me, it remains a No.

I was afraid if I didn’t go, she would take an auto and go. Then, it would be like a tight slap on my face (The perfect Gandian style of revenge) So, I got up, changed into a different set of clothes and within no time we were on our way to the clinic on my bike. It was while we were driving over a small bridge that the guy driving the bike ahead of us – I don’t know what got into his head – suddenly swirled to the right. He hit my bike’s front tyre at an angle that made it wobble for sometime and then finally spin out of control. We were traveling at a fairly good speed of 45 kms. per hour and I realized at a speed like that the fall from the bike could be inevitably fatal. But I could do nothing to avert it. It was too late. We crashed. The accident instantly disentangled me from the bike and I took five full tumbles before coming to a halt. Thankfully nothing happened to me, not even a scratch!

Even while I was tumbling the only thing I was worried about was mom. “God, don’t let anything happen to her!” I got up and came rushing to her. She helped herself up but was momentarily dazed. Later, I guided her onto the pedestrian path. I could notice she was writhing in pain, I knew something terribly bad had happened. Only when I saw the long, deep gash below her right knee did I realize the full impact of it. A single glance had told me it would require nothing less than 15 to 20 stitches. I was shocked beyond words. It all seemed like a bad dream. I was hoping someone would wake me; tell me, it’s over, she’s alright. This is only a dream…But nothing of that sort happened! The seconds mindlessly dragged on, before reality dawned – All this is actually happening!

Noticing the accident, a few passers-by hailed an auto. I immediately put mom in the auto and asked the driver to take her to the nearest hospital. I went and kick-started the bike; thankfully it roared to life although it looked completely wrecked. I then, sped to the hospital. There, the doctor asked the nurse to bandage the injury and take an immediate x-ray. Fortunately, the x-ray revealed there weren’t any broken bones. So, the wound was treated as only a deep laceration which needed stitches. She received all in all 18 stitches.

When the doctor found out that mom was a diabetic; he said the healing process would take a long, long time. But fortunately she returned to good health in a short time. The injury had properly healed. We were all surprised at the recovery. Even the doctors were taken aback. They exclaimed, “It’s a miracle! We haven’t seen any old, diabetic patient heal so quickly”. Moreover, after what had happened, I never expected mom to travel with me on my bike. But she still does! The faith a mom reposes in a son is simply amazing!

It’s more than one and half year, since the accident took place. Today, it is 13th February 2009. It’s a quite afternoon. The sun is warming up the neighborhood. The breeze is cool and pleasant. The smell of freshly cut plants is wafting in the air. My mind is tricking me into sleeping. That’s when I heard my mom knock on the door and say, “Would you like to have some tea?” I quipped, “Sure, as long as you don’t ask me to drive you to some place!”

When Silence Speaks

The body, when it is silent, it is the mind that becomes restless. For me, the last few days were nothing but bodily silence. I thought of questions like how much time I have left on this earth. What have I achieved so far? Have I justified my existence to god? Or at least to myself? The questions I seek have no answer. Because somewhere down the line, I missed my way. I got lost in the forest of temptation. Probably, ate the fruit that was forbidden. Although, I affirm, I haven’t committed any sin that is earth-shattering or broken any one of the commandments, I know all it takes is one small error to ruin progress - whether it’s earthly or spiritual. It’s akin to a scientist’s small error which may not help the project take off! The error may not be colossal. But the project is halted.

God sometimes tests the scientist’s abilities. Don’t blame the machine!

The thought that must thoroughly cleanse our complacent minds is: are we giving our 100% (mind you, not a percent less) to whatever we are working on? If not, it’s time we decided to.

Discount Sales – The Death of Me!

I didn’t know there existed a shopaholic inside me. I only got a glimpse of him couple of times, but somehow I know he exists. Somehow I know he lurks deep within. Especially, when he stops a minute longer, staring unabashedly at designer clothes on the window display in the shopping malls, or when he throws a curve ball at friends by cutting them in between their sentences and enquiring, “Is it a Pierre Cardin?” And when friends incredulously question, “What?”. Without batting an eyelid he asserts, “I mean the brand you are wearing.” Sometimes, the shopaholic makes me jump out of my skin, but then again it’s my skin. I’d rather do away with him, than jump out.

What’s more, the other day, he made my heart pump harder by dragging me to the nearest Benetton sales showroom. After what seemed like a minute, I was compelled to take a sweeping glance at a huge range of T-Shirts at discounted prices. While my glance steadied on the range, the shopaholic screamed, “Man, look at the price! Do you think one could get a brand like this at a price like that?!” Of course, he is as smooth as silk with words. His words have the magical charm of a piped piper. You just follow him without ever asking a question. Thus, his honey-coated words had wrung my arm into purchasing him four Benetton T-shirts and a pair of jeans. Only later, did I realize the damage and blew my top.

This isn’t the first time he has done such a thing. Last year, during august, he kept looking up at the newspaper ads. Finally, when he noticed something of his interest, he hypnotized me into walking to the nearby Lee showroom and buying him two pairs of wrangler jeans and a couple of t-shirts. At the end, he left me gaping with a half-empty wallet. However, this time, I am keeping a close watch on him. But still, I have to vouch, he is indiscernibly notorious. Had his dwelling place been a rich, socialite woman, she would have welcomed his every move. But with me, he is more out-of-place -- or rather let me put it this way -- I am more out-of-place with him. I simply don’t’ know what to do -- that is apart from screaming.

Damn these Discount sales! Damn the shopaholic…and lastly damn the brands!

90 Minutes in Heaven

Finally, I laid my hands on the book I was scouting high and low for – “90 Minutes in Heaven” - The New York Times bestseller. It’s actually a Christian book as a result my problems of acquiring the book at the regular booksellers compounded heavily. Whenever I asked for this book, I was met with only frowns, scratching of heads and doubtful faces. None of them heard about this book or the author. The Christian bookstores weren’t helpful either. They heard about the book. But they didn’t stock it. Even my visit to the far-flung OM (Operation Moblisation) at Bowenpally, Hyderabad, which is considered to be one of the biggest Christian bookstores in India, perhaps in Asia, didn’t yield any results. I was left brooding whether I would ever read this book or will it just turn out to be another mirage in the desert of life?

But finally, finally, a couple of days ago, I was able to get a hold of the copy. It was a simple call to Walden. I told them the book title and who the American publishers were. One pleasant voice took my telephone number and informed me that the staff would call me up if they found the book on the stands. I turned doubtful. But within a few minutes, my phone buzzed to life. The call came from Walden and said they had found the book but it isn’t by an American publisher but by an Inidan publisher - Jaico. I didn’t care who the publishers were, it was the book I was badly hunting for. So, I told them to hang on to it till I reached the spot. Poof. Within a few minutes I appeared before the Walden counter to claim it. I took a bunch of notes out of my wallet, counted and handed over the money in exchange for the book.

On my way, my joy knew no bounds. I was like a young kid holding a DVD of ET dashing home to watch it. I call it ET, because the book in a way was talking about something that’s extra terrestrial. Something that is difficult for the earthly minds to believe in on. Yet, if it is true (which I believe it is), what shocking truths it could reveal about heaven? That’s the reason I acquired the book.

Now, for the story. It is about Don Piper, a Christian priest, who accidentally got hit by a huge eighteen-tyre truck while he was on his way home in the US. After the accident occurred, the police personnel checked Don’s pulse and declared him dead. But inspired by god, another priest, who was passing by the same route, walked closer to the accident spot, waded through the mass of wreckage, placed his hand on Don Piper’s shoulder and started praying to God to save him. He did this, even after the police had told him that Don was dead. As soon as he ended his prayer, he started singing a song, “What a friend we have in Jesus…” Amazingly, he heard another voice sing along with his. That was Don’s. That’s when he rushed to the police and informed that Don was alive.

Until then, except for Don no one knows that Don Piper had actually died and came back to life. During the 90 minutes, that is from the time the accident occurred to the time the pastor started singing the song, Don was actually dead on earth but was taking a walk in heaven near the pearly gates amidst angelic singing. Unfortunately, he was sent back after 90 minutes of stay in heaven. I say “unfortunate” because Don says it. He says heaven is such a lovely place you don’t ever feel like coming back to earth again.

Anyway, I wouldn’t want to spoil the fun by revealing all the contents of the story. For those, who haven’t heard or read this book, I think it’s time you did, because it’s a book that implicitly gives you the details of life after death.