The Stalkathon

I have a history of stalking...yes, I am a self-confessed criminal. I have practiced this patient art since I was in the 6th standard. I should have been a detective...or a pocket-maar...but wot to do...jab kismat ho pandu to kya karega Yogu. Laal Tel Paree. Yes...that was her name...my sixth standard heart-throb. Baap re baap...she used to wear those pig-tail types chotee with red ribbons and all. But me was total fida on her...her bonafide deewana...red-ribbons-dipped-in-coconut-oil or not. I used to dream about her even when I was staring straight at her...I was so smitten.

My feeble brain had no idea what to do in this situation as I was way ahead...hormonically speaking...from the rest of the half-pant-waali junta in my class. My friends were no use as they thought that all girls were a waste of time. One of them still does...but we now call him Gay-jendar...and he is not my bottom-slapping friend anymore.

So anyway...my highly advanced Phantom-comics influenced intellect decided that in situations like these...where you don't have enough guts to approach a particular species...you stalk them...hunt them down...subdue them...and then scratch your costume and plot the next course of action. Old Jungle Saying. So I started earnestly with step one...and decided to trail my prey...my superhero costume being my school uniform.

The good thing about Red-Ribbons was that she did not take a bus or rick-shaw or elephant from school...but walked back to her home...which I guessed was somewhere near the school. I realized that it was a lucky break and I should make full use of this fact. I did not take the bus home one day and sent a message through my conductor that I would be staying at a friends place and will come home later in the afternoon. I had smartly calculated how much time it would take me to reach home after this detour.

As school left...I spotted my victim walking with determination towards her goal. I followed at least 15-people spaces behind...quickening my pace as she marched on. She continued...and I relentlessly pursued. The blazing hot noon sun was out...and Bombay's humidity was gushing out of my pores. The incessant mid-day honking and dodging other vehicles on the road wasn't making the job any easier. But I did not give up...I stuck to her like chewing-gum in hair.

We passed the place where I hoped she lived...but she continued. We passed my favourite juice-stall...she still continued. We passed the haunted house on the narrow street...and yet she continued. We even passed the aromatic dye factory...she didn't even stop for a quick sniff...but just breezed on. By this time..we had come quite far from the school and I was wheezing and panting like an old man just trying to keep up with PT Usha. But she showed no signs of slowing up...and maintained a constant speed which was getting way beyond my grasp. Where the hell did she live!!??!! We were now well into the territory where school buses were required...well...required at least by all sane people.

Finally...I saw her slow down...thank the constellations!!! I thought my hard tiring work was about to pay off...when suddenly...she stopped and looked behind. I froze like the Statue Of Liberty wishing to be invisible at that moment...but I guess she was just checking the traffic behind as she deftly crossed the road in the twinkling of an eye. I gathered my remains and scrambled after her...still profusely sweating and huffing. I saw her figure disappear into an area called Liberty Garden...which was completely unknown to me. I entered the area and stopped...the road was straight ahead and I could see her easily...while she kept on going and going like an energizer bunny...further and further away!!! Holy Moonlighting!!! That was it!...I decided in desperate frustration...no girl however oily was worth this much effort! Tired and defeated...I flagged down a rickshaw and was off to my place. I looked behind...and she was still walking!!!

The next day during assembly...I saw her come in...walking again...without a single drop of sweat on her forehead...and without any heavy breathing. She's gotta be an alien I mused... when suddenly my new house captain Preeti Cutie pulled me out of the assembly line for wearing white shoes to school. She wore yellow ribbons with no oil...and yellow was suddenly my favourite colour...and Parachute my most hated hair-oil.

The Smile

I just remembered a real life incident after reading Alpha baby's latest post. This happened when I was in my third year of enggi...I was known to belong to the "TE" class. The order being "FE", "SE", "TE", "BE". Anyway, we had a small Mata ka temple up the only hill in the village called Lone-Tech (the local name being Lon Tekdi). The temple had been recently renovated and they cut up the hill to build these huge stairs going up to it. The bottom of the stairs became like our favourite hang-out place as we could ogle at all the women going up and down...yes, even paan-spitting village belles (wot to do...we were desperate).

Anyway, one beautiful evening, 5 of us TE guys sat at our usual place to begin the evening ritual. One FE guy passed by us and I just scowled at him making him run faster to mother Kali (our group had quite a rep). But the poor guy was caught by a group of 3 to 4 SE girls further up the stairs ...and one of them, was pretty vocal.

Khadoos Girl: Oye!
FE Kid: Yes..........?
Khadoos: Kyun bey, idhar ghoor ghoor ke kya dekh raha tha??!!? Bhagwan ki puja karne aaya hai ya ladkiyon pe line maarne??
FE Kid: (realizing they were seniors and getting nervous and lowering his eyes...) sorry ma'am...galtee ho gayee.
Khadoos: (turning around to face her hommies and exclaiming...) saala he is admitting!!! i to was just pulling his leg....
Khadoos: (turning around and suddenly assuming an even more menacing pose...)...sun munne...yeh baat yaad rakh...aage se koi bhee senior ladkee dikhee...aur teri nazar agar tere joote se thodi bhee upar huyee....to achaa nahin ho ga. samjha?!?...samjha?!?...abey samjha ki nahin!!??!! ...zor se bol..!
FE Kid: (nervously shivering and trying to burrow his chin into his neck....)...sss..ssoo...ssoorry ma'am...so sorry...nahin hho ga...aage se....
Khadoos: Chal ....ab apna manhoos chehra yahan se lekar nikal ja....chal bhaag!!
FE Kid: (about turn and bolt!...down the stairs towards us....)

Now we were really tough raggers during our time....but this was horrendous!! Humaari aankh ke saamne ...that girl just ripped apart this poor guy....one of our kind! And seniors ka kuch lihaaz nahin! We were offended...male ego bursting on its seam...I called out to the FE guy while he was rolling and tumbling down the stairs in an attempt to escape from the clutches of this daiyan...

Me: Abey ruk!!!
FE Kid: (...still tumbling as he looked up and let out a gasp!)
Me: ...idhar aa!...
FE Kid: (...screeeching to a mid-stair halt and balancing himself with his arms circling wide....)
FE Kid: ...(..still balancing but facing me now..)...er..Y.Y.Yesss s.s..s.ir?
Me: shhhh...relax...no need to fear me...i heard all that the bitch said to u...we are going to set her straight...do one thing...go back up and tell her that i want to meet her...NOW....and then go and complete ur darshan in the temple...
FE Kid: (blankly looking at me as if i had poked him in the ass...and for a minute i thought i was talking to a penguin...)
Me: Hullo...kya hua? Abey na-mard...jaa ke abhi usko neeche bula!!! GO!!! NOW!!!
FE Kid: (...bolting back up the stairs and panting as he conveyed my message to Khadoos...)

I saw Khadoos looking in my direction...turning around to converse in whispers with her friends...and turning back to issue a crisp verbal command to the Kid which saw him rocketing up towards the temple! She then started climbing down nimbly towards our group with her head gracefully lowered.

As she came closer...I noticed that she wasn't all that bad looking...in fact...under other circumstances...i would have actually called her cute. As she approached closer...I sat down on the short wall lining the stairs with my buds standing around me...acting tough and looking like we meant business. They also kept uttering these useless one-liners...like .."we'll show her"..."wot does she think"..."show her her auks (short for aukaad)"..."bloody SE"...disturbing. I told them to shut up as she approached.

Cute Khadoos: (facing me...)..Yes sir?..(...looking straight into my eyes...)..did u call for me?
Me: (...thinking ...Holy Mother of Jesus Christ!!! u've got some dishy eyes on u girl!!...:))..er...hmm...yes...er...yes...i did...er..WE..did...
Me: (desperately looking around for some support from my hommies...but all i saw were a bunch of bloody zombic idiots ...glaring at her with their eyes wide open and mouths agape with shock!!!...she was pretty...)
Cute Khadoos: Yes?...(...dark innocent eyes imploring...looking straight at me..)
Me:...(fumbling for right words...any words...she was too pretty...)..er...yes...yes...i ..er ...WE ...overhead ur conversation with that FE kid ....and...and we just wanted to point out that its not right....i mean...yes...u can rag...its right to rag...but...(looking around for help once more but changing my mind quickly after seeing my dumbos begin drooling...)...but...er...u shouldn't be so rude....u know...i mean ...when we rag our juniors...we are gentle...u know...hehehe (nervous laugh...)...u really scared the ...u know...out of the little kid...er...
Cute Khadoos: (...listning intently...and giving a ...) *shy beautiful smile* ...(..uff!!!..)
All of us: (...going WHOA!!!...what a smile!!! )
Cute Khadoos: ...sorry sir...i'll try to be gentle next time...*shy beautiful smile*
All of us: (...WHOA WHOA WHOA!!!...)
Me: (...recovering hazily...)...er..ok..that was all...we just wanted to convey this...hehehe (nervous laughter)...ok then..happy ..er...ragging...see u..sometimes....around here...somewhere...tata...ok...
Cute Khadoos: (..looking at each and every one of us and smiling and thanking...)...Bye...

Needless to say...we felt collectively moronic after the entire episode and as for the FE kid...I didn't see him anywhere at all after that incident. God rest his poor soul.

The Girl Next Door - 2

Ok, for all u gals out there hooting for Clueless...there is some good news. I met her last night....yes,...I am a horrible person. I went there to check her out after hearing so much from Ragz. So I pretended to be Ragz's cool friend who is a pc expert. But lo!...the minute I met her all sorts of good pure brotherly feelings engulfed my blood stream!!! I don't know if its the way she looked..her age..or just the way she moved around or spoke..but I am pretty sure she was my kid sister in some pichla janam. And her pc is one big messed up piece of crap (she's had it since 98)... totally beyond even NASA scientists..(I tried kicking it hard too...that usually fixes any appliances i am used to). And after we found out that she was in a tornado storm recently without a surge protector....we tried to prepare her mentally into buying a new one soon.

Me and Ragz: (looking remorsefully at her pc)...tsk tsk tsk...
Totally Clueless: so u guys speak gujrati???
Me: (looking blank for a second and thinking... do we look like gujratis?)
Ragz: (looking blank for more than a minute and thinking... damn! i thought she was north indian!)
Totally Clueless: (still waiting for her answer....)
Me: ..er..I speak Hindi...and Ragz here speaks ...er...Hindi too. its our national language u know.
Totally Clueless: (cheerfully...) oh ..i can speak gujrati very well..!

This went on for a while till we thought she is now going to start practicing her gujrati on us (yes..even after our repeated denials)..and thats when we decided to hurry out of her apartment. We got the junk pc with us to work today...lets see what our experts come up with. And oh yes, the good news now is that because of the "Bhaiya" angle.., I am now as comitted as Ragz to get her pc fixed..or if not that then get her a good deal on a new one.....or we'll have to hear from her...in gujrati.

bah..women!

The Girl Next Door - 1

Life is funny. Seriously. Ragz has been trying to avoid girls all his life (he is an RSS member wanna be Brahmachari)...and now, this hot new ABCD chick lands up right next to his apartment. Which is fine..Ragz has kinda perfected the act of keeping to himself..but she came up to him to request assistance in "computer related" matters. Her pc is not rebooting. And if thats not all, she asked him if she can come over to his place and check her email from time to time (till he fixes her computer). Now please, we all may be "software professionals"..but when it comes to fixing computers for someone...its like pulling out ur own teeth! As for Ragz, his libidal hormones have suddenly awoken after having given up on their master... who they had thought would never really have any use for them. So after ignition, his first instinct was to rush to WalMart, get a duplicate key of his apartment made, insert it in a gold chain and present it to Ms Clueless in a diamond box. I am glad he called me before he embarked on his adventure. We (all at work) have advised him not to even attempt to fix her computer till Friday...and just use a lot of computer jargaon in front of her to show that he knows a lot about these things. Here are few ideas from the group..

Ragz: Oh shoot! (appearing seriously dejected)
Clueless: Is it that bad?
Ragz: If it were a Unix system..u would have been accessing online HTML ASP pages written in .NET by now.
Clueless: so....?.
Ragz: (shaking his head looking at the monitor) u have a Windows 2000 OS which is known to have rebootable bugs. My company is sending me for training on that next week...after that I can probably download the latest patch from microsofts online website and try to force a reinstall of the Operating System again. we might also have to change the harddrive...its making too much noise.
Clueless: Oh dear....
Ragz: (looking up and flashing his freshly brushed teeth) don't worry...the problem is solvable. if nothing else works....we can always boot ..er..format the hardrive. i have done that a lot for Apple 77STX MacIntosh and Unix Sun Solaris 6000 machines.
Clueless: (sighing with audible relief) thanks ...thanks ...Ragz!! i owe u big time! (dishing out her most lovely smile)...
Ragz: (crumbling under the smile onslaught and blushing profusely)...oh hehe..this is nothing...this is just my left hand work...

Ahem.., this is just one of the scripts we have prepared for Ragz. I can't possibly include all. We'll find out tomorrow how he fared. Good luck Ragz...and Clueless.

The Closure

I attended a Memorial Service for the first time ever last weekend. I had always thought that Memorial Services and funerals were the same thing...but they are different...kind of like a reception after the wedding...(ok..thats a very bad analogy but its Monday morning dammit!). I am one of those ppl who usually keep grinning at funerals or cremations for some inexplicable reason. I don't find it funny...I just can't stop grinning. I know...I am a total nutcase. So you can understand my apprehensions when my American Swami asked me to accompany him to this Memorial Service in honour of Greg's (his good friend) mother Marie, who was a 3 time cancer survivor and had died at the age of 84. Swami moves around in a very eclectic circle.., so it was no surprise that Greg was a greek american who grew up in hawaii and followed a Native American Tradition while his mother Marie had been a practicing Buddhist. Swami was conducting the service..so we had Hindu chants mixed with zen wisdom, Native American singing by Greg and his friends, cedar and incense burning, flower offering, stories being read out from the Bible and quotes from the Dalai Lama. It was a very emotionally moving experience and everyone who knew Marie were sharing how strong she was..how much joy she had brought to them with her special brand of grandmotherly love. There were stories about her strength and wisdom, her love and caring and I was simply amazed at the influence this fraile lady had in the lives of so many people. This was not a sad affair at all..it was a celebration of a life very well lived and well spent. I was moved to tears by that simple fact. Here I was...just an interested spectator who did not even know this grand lady..singing praises of the divine with tears in my eyes. In the end.. each one of us were invited to offer flowers and lighted cedar leaves...at Marie's altar..and wish her good bye in our own personal way. Her son Greg..came in last ...and offered his good byes. I was so taken in by the whole atmosphere that I just froze while I witnessed this very sacred act.....a closure....a final farewell by a son to his mother.

I went there afraid that I'll make a fool of myself by smiling and grinning...but came out sniffing and wiping my tears. Goodbye Marie...and thank you.

Valentine’s Day – Feb, 14th 1990 (Age 15 years)

It was an unusually chilly morning for Bombay. I woke up real early (around 4:00 AM) to write a poem for her. I had bought the small wallet sized blank card the evening before and I was honestly marveling at my stupidity. Such a tiny card? How the hell am I gonna fit even two lines into that? She might not even see this on her desk! Wah Wah…tussee great ho Yoguji.

But after a while…when the panic subsided (and the calm mind reminded me of people fitting the Koran on a grain of rice)…I decided to write the poem.

But what do I write? OK…what was the one thing about her that really spoke to me…the one thing that came to my mind every single time I thought of her?…the answer came right back!…her legs. Seriously man, that girl had the most gorgeous pair of legs ever! There was no way I was going to write a poem on her legs though…I was 15…not suicidal or crazy. So what next? Her voice. Yes. Now that was more like it. I loved her voice…strong, clear, crisp and precise! Hmmm…err…that sounds a bit like a soft drink ad. Just imagine Rekha’s voice. It was similar to that.

I obviously don’t remember the lines I wrote 15 years back…but they were something to this effect.

I saw your face, and I was impressed.
I sat behind you, ‘coz of the way you dressed.
Then I heard your voice…and I felt…blessed.
Yadee yadee yaada…

I think there was some mention of her hair too in that but I really have no recollection. I showered quickly, drenched myself in some cologne and ran out to catch the 5:22 local.

We both attended the same private classes and so far, I had not spoken to her even once! I was hoping that today, being V Day and all, would be a good day to break the ice. As I was entering the building, I spotted the phoolwale ki tapri which was closed at that unearthly hour. Like a true romantic, I ended up inside the tapri hoping to find a free rose or some other leftover flower. But all I could salvage were a bunch of decaying roses. Suddenly…a bulb chamkofied somewhere in my cloudy mind and I furiously started plucking out all the non-sadofyed petals. I then carefully stuffed them in the tiny envelope. So that way, I reasoned, when she opens the card…the effect will be magical! Tussee actually great ho Yoguji…*broad grin…self pat-pat*

I entered the empty classroom and located her desk. I slid the card (taped to a piece of stone) in the book compartment underneath the desk so that she won’t miss it. I sat behind her desk and then I waited. And waited. And waited.

All the lazy bums started pouring in quite at the same time. But she didn’t turn up. Her 2 friends came in (the ones she usually came in and sat with)…but she wasn’t there! Crap. It looked like she wasn’t gonna turn up. Of all the days to maro chuttee…she chose the V Day!!! Dhat tere ki! But worse things were in store for me.

You see…I usually address all my romantic mail with…For You (copyright) in front of the card…with the initial "- Y" (copyright) at the bottom. According to my considerable experience…it has a thrilling effect on the receiver. I tried the same here too. Imagine my surprise when her idli-faced friend turned around blushing like a madcap!!! Aiyyo! I returned a frozen smile back to her and started shaking my head slowly…painfully aware that the class was silent and the Professor (forgot his name) had already started talking about “geometric straight lines”. Idli-face now turned her focus on the card. Feeling utterly helpless, I panicked…and just as she was about to open the card I leaned forward with lightning speed and jabbed her in the shoulder with my pen! She yelled out a painful yelp and turned around abruptly…shock and hurt glaring out of her eyes!

The series of events after that are a blurred memory…although I do remember apologizing to the professor…offering to take idli-face to a hospital…and eventually giving the card to its rightful owner…my dearest Anu. Needless to say, after this charming incident…and then some…Anu became my first ever official girlfriend. And as for idli-face…hmmm…I know this will sound cruel…but I seriously can’t remember what happened to her.

Main Madhuri Dixit Banna Chahta Hoon

My bua in Delhi is crazy about Bombay for just one reason…film stars. And she is way up there in the family hierarchy. So any time she is visiting us, we HAVE to make sure that she gets to witness at least a couple of “stars” and go back to Delhi all giggly and gushy.

So the year was around 1994, and here she was again with her loud kids (my cousins) jumping joyously from the fact that she had just spotted Johnny Lever on the plane! What can I say…she is easily impressed. After a few days, I received the illustrious duty to take the whole noisy lot to the Filmistan Studios where we hoped to spot someone a little more…eyeable.

Entering a film studio is like entering a high-profile prison…with its guarded steel entrance door, the high walls…and a general air of secrecy surrounding the place. Once inside though, it’s a different world altogether! A flurry of activity greets you and you are immediately sucked into the excitement! I was always a movie buff but never a hero/heroine worshipper…so this whole act of seeing them in person did not fit in too well with my nature. Although still a reluctant tour guide…once inside, even I was taken in by the whole atmospherics…but my cousins and bua were totally frenzoid!

Look!…there rests Pappu Pager!…oh!!! look look!! there goes the extra who has been a doctor/lawyer/ coolie/sarpanch in a million movies…hey!…is that blind guy Kader Khan??? ouch! what gaudy clothes these woman dancers wear…nicely cut though…hehehe…everything is so colorful…and it seems like EVERYONE is walking around with make-up on their face!!! Whoa!!! Suresh Oberoi with a broad… yikes!!!…she is yesteryear’s queen Rakhee!!! Are they having an affair???

By now, we were all giddy with excitement and started walking around the whole complex searching and hunting for known faces. It’s a bunch of ugly looking concrete buildings and not a pretty sight really. Since you need a different sort of permission to enter each building (which we didn’t have)…we were content with just prancing around the paths linking the buildings…hoping to catch glimpses of famous filmi people walking in and out of these so-called sheds.

Then, we spotted a group of young kids and their families…much like us… standing and chatting noisily between two buildings. We hurried in their direction to find out that the shooting for a song-scene of the movie “Hum Aapke Hain Kaun” was about to begin in the building on the right…and the make-up room for the main artistes was in the building on the left. And so far…no one had passed through yet. Yipeee!!!!! My Bua and cousins whooped with joy at the prospect of seeing Salman Khan in living flesh!!! I really wasn’t all that thrilled as I had already seen the dud a couple of times earlier…unceremoniously chewing channa in his balcony. I was wondering who the heroine was when suddenly…a maddening collective shriek emerged from the crowd…and I saw Shortie Khan come out…dressed in all white! The children, including my bua, just swamped the crap out of the little guy with their tiny autograph booklets. But he graciously handled them all and signed as many of them as he could and actually returned the pen to its owner before he managed to reach the other end into the safety of the studio. He also winked at my bua who nearly collapsed. I was impressed.

Minutes later, junior characters like Laxmikanth Berde and a few others followed but did not create much of a ripple amongst the kids…who by now were getting restless and impatient…waiting for the heroine to come out.

And then…she glided out. The angel…the most beautiful face my memory can ever remember. Madhuri. I expected the kids to crush her anytime with their books…messing up that beautiful purple saree…screwing up all that delicate make-up. But something magical occurred. All the murmuring came to a complete halt and there was absolute pin drop silence. As she approached, the crowd blocking the entrance parted slowly to make way for her. Just like apna Moses. She did not once look up…but had a constant shy smile on her face…gracefully holding her saree so that it doesn’t touch the floor. There was still complete silence as she took her first steps to cross the freshly created path. She walked as if the hot concrete path was made of soft fragrant flowers…her each and every delicate move possessed by a charm and grace only goddesses possess. I could smell her from where I stood…and I got goose bumps in more places than I’d care to admit. Everyone had their eyes glued to that face…that smile…that allure…it was as if there was a halo surrounding her entire being. She shone…with a splendour not of this earth. As she floated across the short pavement…holding time hostage to her whim…every living being was frozen there…even an impoverished cat…staring from above an abandoned staircase. The moment passed…and she crossed into the studio on the other side. The silence continued for a while… broken finally by the exhaling of air from all of us who were holding our breath. Gorgeous…magical…a priceless moment. We all oddly felt very humbled…and the loud noise and chattering of before was replaced by hushed tones and whispers.

Main Madhuri Dixit banna chahta hoon…not because I am a cross dresser…but because I wish I had a personality like hers!