RSS Feed

Brother Luke

2

Wednesday, October 21, 2015 by



There was once,
A little boy who prayed for a baby sister,
And when she was just born, he’d often kiss her.
But then he was certain he didn’t want her anymore,
So he informed his Mummy, that the baby must go.

The little girl stuck on, she was stubborn & brave
So the lad decided she must remain his slave.
King Luke now had a slave and a loyal squire,
So he set strict rules for his backyard empire.

Even though his labourers were “dull and unskilled”,
A majestic kingdom, he was determined to build.
Every day they were instructed, trained and groomed,
If orders were not followed, they knew danger loomed.

Everything was a learning; a development of skills,
The polishing of his shoes, the mastering of their wills.
A few decades later, they are still being educated,
But now there are many other students included.

It didn’t come easy, there were many fierce uprisings,
The King won most & doesn’t find that surprising.
A true leader, he’s has all types of disciples,
Some were won by friendship, others through battle.

So onward with the King we march,
Eating no gluten, no lactose, no starch.
We’ve come a long way, but there is more to win,
We’ve got many plans and an evil grin.

The little boy may have grown in stature and beard,
But to his family he’s still child-like and weird.
We’re secretly proud of him & all he’s done, 
But to tell him that would spoil the fun. 

Category

A Birthday Away

1

Friday, May 1, 2015 by




This blog has long suffered neglect just as my fuzzy eyebrows have and that’s about to change. I've been waiting for a good story, but having spent the last year in Hyderabad, I mostly have dull ones to tell, so no more waiting. Here are my notes on one of the nicest birthdays I've ever had. 



I turned 25 this year on an island far away from home with the only friend I’ve held onto since my 13th birthday. There was no cake and better still, no mobile network but there was a lot of giggling, unexpected late night adventure and the vast healing Andaman sea. 


This is not a travelogue, because I would not want to promote these (now not so) secluded islands even slightly for fear that the lot of you may find your way there with your hideous tourist t-shirts and frustratingly popular selfie sticks. 


Rather, I wish to encourage more of you to travel, to places in India and beyond. Travel, because that’s what you need more than the latest season of Game of Thrones or the urge to swipe right for the next Tinder boy. 

Don’t make excuses that you need to earn more or don’t have paid leave or your beard is so long your visa gets rejected; unless you’re a certain sibling of mine.


I worked a full time job last year and bless my soul, did I work my ass off but I did manage a trip to Hampi, Udaipur, Vizag, Pondicherry, the Andamans and a whole lot of other smaller getaways. People who travel find a way and an excuse.



Travel is and always has been my favourite birthday gift to myself. 



All pictures by @RuthSeq

Category , , , , , , , , ,

Journeys

1

Sunday, April 27, 2014 by

Photo Credit Luke.in


To take the road less travelled on an all girls road trip,
Discover you are lost and kick yourself for being so hip.

To book a ticket on the Indian Railways site and go insane,
Is worth it when you get to daydream on a running train.

To brave shoddy food and nightmarish loos without a fuss,
And test your patience on a slow, rickety journey by bus.

To work for a year in order to afford a very expensive flight,
Only to be stuck between kids in turbulence & curse your plight.

To prefer the thieves and crazies you meet if you hitch-hike,
Than to lose a leg trying to kick-start a stubborn rented bike.

To walk around in circles 'cause you've been given wrong directions
Arrive at said location, discover it's a dry day because of the elections.

An exhausting journey, bad food or a lousy cheap hotel,
Are valuable because you return with exotic stories to tell.

Category , , ,

My Friend Vidhi

1

Monday, January 27, 2014 by



I have tried many a time to write about my friend Vidhi, but it was never good enough. I've written a poem, a paragraph and even doodled her but none of it does justice. I cannot describe her entirely, at best; I can share our story and introduce her to you, read on because she is definitely worth knowing.

 Meet Vidhi, one of my closest friends. We were classmates who nodded an acknowledgement when we crossed paths but hardly shared a memory together in college. Girly-best-friend-sparks flew only after college on a fateful trip through South India where, a group of 6 girls, i.e. two pairs of best friends and Vidhi & me - the misfits had no choice but to bond. And bond we did.

 Before the trip could end, our groupies had already witnessed the beginnings of a love story and wasted no time in making us feel awkward. Luckily for us, awkwardness was a feeling we had dealt with from the time we stuck our big baby feet out into the world. We shuffled between blushing and denying every time someone teased us, we tried to behave like normal grownups but it was too late, we had already baked ourselves gay.

 Hold on, I must clarify since that previous paragraph may have misled you - Vidhi and I, are and always have been heterosexual best friends. However, when we discovered how much we had in common on that trip, it was a magical experience of identifying a best friend immediately unlike other best friend relationships that solidify over time. Back to our main subject..

 Vidhi is caring, curious and often confused. Since my law exams have taught me to support every statement with an explanation, allow me to elaborate. Vidhi is a kind-hearted softie that feels pangs of pain every time she says no to a beggar. Beggars being smarter than psychiatrists in identifying personality types, pull at Vidhi's guilt strings and never go away empty handed. Vidhi could have easily grown up to be a brat, instead she is empathetic - always putting herself in other peoples shoes before she makes a decision. This brings me to that bit about confusion, frankly, what is one to expect when one's feet are in so many shoes?

 Curiosity is Vidhi's double edged sword - it is the trait that gives her hope & makes her look forward to what others might find a dull life, but it also a source of gloom when she is denied an opportunity to explore as much as she'd like to. Yet Vidhi continues to personify Steve Job's quote - "Stay hungry. Stay foolish.".

 #TIL (Today I Learnt) could be Vidhi's official hashtag. Unlike us mental sloths, Vidhi has learned something new everyday of her life. Sometimes taking conscious steps, for eg. joining a language class, using dictionary.com while reading a book, typing frantically into Google at least thrice a day, etc. Sometimes, like the chap who discovered electricity, she discovers things by accidents, for eg. the A in GujArat and figuring out my deceased father's name after mocking a certain Simon in front of my mom, etc. Of course, I am not here to list Vidhi's discoveries, for if I do, Alexander Graham Bell might feel very insecure in his grave.

 I value Vidhi's humbleness and perseverance to learn. She doesn't aspire to crack the CAT exam but works on more valuable things like being able to have a conversation on almost any subject, knowing without thinking twice the capital of a minuscule country and equally dividing a lunch bill by three people. Vidhi strips a large cloud of matter and summarizes information into simple points, making her excellent at analysing a problematic solution and giving the most simple, pragmatic solution that make you think 'gee, why didn't I think of that?!'.

  Vidhi is always attracted to people who are brilliantly intelligent, who have traveled extensively and are astonishingly creative. These brilliant people are also always attracted to Vidhi because she has an openness to experiences and a sincere pulsing desire to learn. Vidhi questions everything, this can get annoying but if you're patient enough it leads to strange, new insights. She is honest about her shortcomings and realistic about her abilities; this is what makes her superior to most of us who fake intelligence by repeating an opinion we have read in the Times of India.

 If you've met Vidhi for even a brief moment you will know that she loves travelling. Every conversation boils down to travelling; sometimes it is all she can talk about. Travel makes Vidhi feel complete. It satisfies her curiosity of people and places, her ability to think and see things differently and experience a sense of independence and freedom that many of us take for granted.

 I have reached a phase where I do not know how to end this blogpost and generally when I reach this phase, it is Vidhi that I call. This will be uploaded without her knowledge but I guess I will call her anyway, just so I hear of her adventures in Ahmedabad.

Category , , ,

Growing Up Goan

2

Tuesday, October 29, 2013 by


Have you ever;

Lit crackers in the room above the principal's office?
Asked some tricky questions during Sunday service?

Had the misfortune of being chased by an angry hen?
Used an underground rainwater drain as your hiding den?

Saved a drunk carpenter who got stranded on your tiled roof? 
Admit to partying all night coz your mum had page3 as proof?  

Met with bike accidents caused either by a drunk tourist or a dog?
Clarified with the waiter if your soup was made of chicken or frog?

Played the part of a reindeer, a shepherd or an angel in church?
Wandered deep into the woods, leading to a child rescue search? 

Thrown a tantrum and refused to get down the garden chickoo tree?
In an emergency, ran straight into the nearest neighbours' loo to pee? 

Supervised the litter of kittens and the very gory birth of a calf?
Heard village gossip about yourself & reacted lightly with a laugh? 

Jumped into your neighbour's well with just a rope around your waist?
Drank big gulps of hard liquor, whenever your dad offered you a taste? 

Been embarrassed by your pious dog  who kept pacing the church aisle?
Received extra pao by the breadman because you complimented his smile?

Had a bus driver friend who promised to beat anyone who hurt you, with a stick?
Rubbed an itchy plant on a wound because your brother said it would heal quick?

Category , , , ,

We

3

Tuesday, October 23, 2012 by



Photo Credit Google Images


We still believe that a girl who gets raped must be a slut.
but we’re modern enough to appreciate Pippa’s butt.

Hundreds of farmers are killing themselves because of debt
yet we still see Naxalism as the country’s “biggest internal threat”.

We’ll keep shut when millions are starving & have nothing to eat
Yet we’ll bring the house down over Shashi Tharoor’s tweet.

We won’t ensure that our fire fighters are equipped and skilled
but we’re confident that all will be fixed as long as Kasab is killed.

Our leaders believe that if America is doing it, it must be right,
And we agree with them because we’re so brainy and bright.

Every week Kejriwal shouts out a new name and a new scam,
We cry foul, we call them names, but honestly we don’t give a damn.

We convince ourselves that we’re just pawns in this corrupt game,
That’s bullshit, because we feed the corrupt; we’re all the same.

Category , , , , , , , , , ,

Location: Chennai, Tamil Nadu, India

The Stalker at the Station

1

Monday, October 8, 2012 by

I travel by train everyday to and from work. I get done by 7:30pm, Monday-Saturday and today was no exception. There was quite a rush while I walked up the main entrance stairs of Kodambakkam station, I was lost in my own thoughts and climbed the stairs two at a time with my head facing the floor. Midway, I noticed a pair of legs about 3-4 stairs ahead of me that had stopped. I moved aside and looked up to the face that belonged to those legs. The man was staring at me. He had stopped completely and was looking straight at me, completely unaware of the people pushing and squeezing around him. I found it odd but continued climbing the stairs. Someone long ago told me that the best thing to do is to ignore people who whistle, stare or call out to you. By reacting negatively, for example, making a face at them or saying something rude back, you are still giving them the attention they want, so I walked past the man without acknowledging him.

Photo courtesy- Google Images
As I reached the top of the stairs I glanced back and noticed that he had turned around and was still looking at me with an odd obsession. I walked a little faster over the bridge and before turning to get on to the stairway that would lead me to my platform I glanced back again and noticed that the man had now started walking towards me; his eyes still glued to me. This is when the alarm bells in my head began to ring, my heart started beating faster. I ran down the stairs and over to a bright spot where there was a mix of men and women. Even if he follows me here, I thought, he wouldn’t dare do anything funny in front of so many people. I was also aware that while the safety of these people was temporary. It wasn't a solution. My objective was not only to reach home untouched but to reach home without leading the guy to where I stay, in order to avoid future problems.

The man had now walked down the stairs and stood about 10ft away from me. He stood under a tube light, picked up his phone, pretended to talk into it and continued staring at me. Step 2, I decided was to get a good look at him. Have a clear description for the FIR, if I, God forbid, had to file. He must have been about 27-30years old, lower-middle class, around 5’7” in height, dark skinned, round black eyes, slightly unshaven oval face, wearing a white shirt and beige pants with black sandals, carrying no bag. He looked a little drunk. A minute passed, he continued to stare at me and no one noticed.

In my third week in Chennai, at around 2pm in the afternoon, while I walked to a restaurant for lunch, a dog ran after me on the road and began to circle me and snarl. He jumped at me, I screamed, he jumped again, I wacked him with my purse. He continued circling me; I looked around at the men and women on the road, who had all stopped to stare, but none of them took a step closer to me nor picked up a stone to fling at the dog. They just stared at me even though I screamed and asked for help, a few even smiled. Had it been Bombay, I knew I would have received help instantly. I lost faith in the people of Chennai that day; I knew that no matter what my situation was, I could never rely on them. The same applied to my current predicament, which is what made me more afraid.
I looked around the platform in search of a policeman/woman. There were none. The man came a few feet closer and continued to stare. I must do something I thought. I must make people aware; I must let him know that people know he’s harassing me. There was a middle aged man sitting next to an older man, so I walked over to them and asked them where the constables generally sat. They said there was no such thing as having a couple of policemen allotted per station. They asked me why I needed one in Tamil and I clearly pointed to the man and told them that he’s been following me and hence I want to report to a policeman. They laughed and said, he must be taking a train too. I shook my head and tried to explain, but they weren’t interested and began to talk among themselves again. The man saw all this, but it didn’t seem to disturb him, he continued to pace around slowly and look at me. My heart began to pound.

There has to be a Station Master. I spotted it and quickly walked towards it. The man followed. I walked fast, he walked calmly. I reached the Station Master’s office, walked in and announced, “There’s a man following me, can you call a policeman?” The Station Master must have been in his late 50s, tall, lean and balding. I could hear my heart beating faster. He picked up the mic and announced for any on duty station staff to report to him. He told me there was a train coming and I should board it and go home. I began to say that I don’t want the man following me home, before which he cut in and said, “I’m really busy, there are 2 trains coming in, there is no policeman.” I looked out the door, the man was passing by, so I screamed, “That’s him! He’s been following me” The station master ran to the door and called out to him, he walked a little faster but didn’t turn around to look. The station master gave up and walked back in. I began to speak again but he interrupted me rudely and said, “Madam, I’m really busy, you are stressing me out, if my temper increases I will not get sleep all night, please sit quietly. Sit for as long as you like, there is no policeman; please call your parents and ask them to pick you up.” I didn’t bother explaining that I had no parents in this city. I sat quiet for I knew that though the Station Master wasn’t the loveliest person in the world, I was still safe in his cabin.

Photo courtesy - Google Images
I stood at the cabin door, as my train entered the station. The station master got busy making calls, punching buttons, he walked out with his green light. Another train came on the other side of the platform, he got busy again. I kept looking up and down the platform in case I spotted the man. I wanted to know if he had left on one of the trains or he was still lurking around on the platform, waiting for me to leave the cabin. The trains left. I hadn’t spotted him. I was still nervous, I couldn’t leave just yet. If he got on to my train and got off at my station, I’d be in big trouble. Chetpet, the station I get off at is really empty by 8:30pm and my walk home is on a quiet lane that isn’t well lit. I sat back in the cabin and waited.

I need to inform someone about what was happening. I should have called someone in Chennai, a friend or someone who lived close by but instead I called my brother David in Goa. Though nothing had happened, the way that man stared frightened me, the whole chase had made me edgy, I need to be comforted. My voice was shaky while I narrated the incident to David, he listened carefully and was calm, which reassured me. I asked him not to inform my mom (she still doesn’t know) and told him I’d call him once I reached home. The station master made another announcement, calling out to the staff. Soon 3 men walked into the cabin. They got the gist of the story from the Station Master and then walked out to looking for the man without asking me for a description of him. They were back in 2 minutes to tell me that there was nothing to be afraid of, the man wasn’t around. Ya right.

Five more minutes passed, another train going my route entered the station, I stepped out of the cabin, waited for the train to stop, looked around to see if the man was around or entering the train. Since I didn’t see him, I walked back in, thanked the Station Master and ran into the train.

Photo Courtesy - Google Images 
Through the journey I tried remembering Psalm 91, the prayer for protection, I couldn’t remember all of it, but I kept repeating the verses I knew. ‘He who calls to me, I shall answer; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honour him..” I got off at my station, took a good look at everyone who got off, the people on the platform and then began to walk home, with frequent paranoid glances behind me, just to make sure that he wasn’t stalking me. Mission successful: I had reached home untouched and without the bugger knowing where I lived.

On retrospect, I shouldn’t have been as scared as I was. This has happened to me in the past in Bombay. I have had men following me, running really close to me and screaming in my ear and once, a drunk on the road even grabbed my hand. I was scared all those times, but somewhere deep inside me I knew that things wouldn’t get out of hand. I could count on the people of Bombay to stop their cars, or drop their bags and rush to my aid. I don’t know if this would actually happen but that’s the kind of faith I have in Bombay. Today, however, I felt all alone. Now that I look back, I’m sure the people of Chennai would have stepped in to help but when it was all playing out, all I could see was the smiling faces of the men and women that afternoon while the dog circled me and snarled. 

Category , , , , , , , , ,

Location: Chennai, Tamil Nadu, India
« Older Entries