Out of body experience

What would it be like to get into the skin of another person and think and act like he is, for a short period of time. Yes people, I am talking about impersonating, harmless though.

I have once done it. It was something like I have to lie more to sustain the previous lies – like a Fibonacci series.

The plot : circa 2006. I was traveling from Trivandrum Central to Kuzhithurai West on a sleepy Saturday early morning passenger train. The compartment was almost free as always, and I wanted to read for sometime and may be catch up on my lost sleep too. I wish. I started to take out a magazine and a person occupied a seat opposite me. I ignored him, and opened the magazine to read. I obviously didn’t want to be distrurbed, but this fellow wanted to strike a conversation with me. Some small talks – like no rain this year, very hot, trains are full in evenings and free in the mornings  - I nodded in agreement and went back to reading after every nod, but the fellow was probably not a good body-language reader, and he came back with his blah blahs.

I understood that my trip was ruined and thought to play along. He wanted to know about me – my name, my job etc. I said my name was ‘Prakash’ and I am a security guard working with an agency at Technopark. He seemed to be more comfortable probably because he felt that I was one like him. He asked more questions about what money I make, if I am married, what other avenues of income I had etc. Now I had to link all the statements I said earlier and then connect it to my next reply. That was fun and a challenge as well. I pulled along and enjoyed this mental exercise.

He then narrated his story – that he was in some section of Indian Army and after voluntary retirement he was a security guard himself and how he earns very little etc. He spoke about how dangerous these jobs were; the rifles the robbers possess, compared to a guard with a lathi or a heavy double barreled shot gun, which is often no more than a show piece. He also explained how his biological clock went haywire, on account of his roster. More importantly he sounded out his mental agony when he has no one to talk to during his duty. He then asked me not to count ‘my’ security guard job as a means of living; he advised me to get a degree, amidst my ‘difficulties’ and try for a government job.

I felt a pang of regret, but I did not want to reveal my actual identity. I felt happy because he could talk to me and atleast for few minutes he could be his true self.

He could be anywhere – the one who guards the entrance, the one at the ATM door or the one at the parking lot.

Alas! I do not remember his face. May be if ever I meet and recognize him, I would tell him that, yes I earned a degree and that now I got a good job. I just want to see him smile when he hears that.

I wish.

THOSE 17 MINUTES

Duh! How I hate those 17 minutes.

17 minutes is the time I require to pick my son (in Lower KG) from his school, cross a road and drop in his crèche where, he’ll be put up till evening, and walk back to my workplace. I am the worst version of myself for those few minutes, when he cries his lungs out with tears flowing down his cheeks, pleading me to take him home, while me ignoring him but apologizing silently.

If only I could.

This is what all parents go through, consoles my friend. But sigh!

I am sure a couple of decades later, he will get me admitted into an old-age home, relishing at his revenge. 

I shouldn’t cry now. 

I have to stock up my tears to cry then.

Around the World, Forever

Geography fascinates me. I can sit for hours with an Atlas in hand, keeping myself busy. I almost always discover something new whenever I lay my hands on an Atlas.

Being a bibliophile, when asked what do I like reading, my answer would be: Travelogues !

I love travelogues, be it books, documentaries or TV programmes. My father used to borrow books on travelogues written by S K Pottecatt from the Trivandrum Public Library. I was so hooked to his language, metaphors and personal experiences that, they taught me more geography than my school teacher. All travelogues by Pottecatt followed by Pico Iyer (Falling Off the Map), and a book on travel experiences by Khushwant Singh (Sights and Sounds of the World) remains my favourite.

Its now the age of visual travelogues. I love them too, but seeing and listening to various places and countries does not have the thrill of reading about them. Of the many visual travelogues the one I love is ‘Sancharam’, being telecast in Asianet. It is not only the places Mr. Santhosh George shoots, but also the captivating script by Ratheesh, and the excellent narration by Aneesh Punnan Peter, which makes it so very attractive. My cable guy doesn’t supply Asianet News (where Sancharam is being telecast on all Sundays 10.30 am IST), but I do get to see Asianet, where they telecast older versions of Sancharam, Saturday mornings at 6.45; I sit glued to the TV during then.

I have read some horrible travelogues and seen some lousy TV shows which mostly explains nothing but the detailed history of the place, which is very unnecessary (in this age of google). What I look for in a travelogue is the first hand personal experience of a traveler.

Traveloging (!) is an art in itself. A fine blend of facts and creativity.

BLIND BELIEF

Disclaimer 1: I am not against religion and religious worship; rather I consider it a personal affair.

Disclaimer 2: I stay at Bangalore, and this is with reference to Bangalore.

There is nothing wrong in closing eyes before the deity in a temple and praying for 2-3 seconds. But what if the person who is offering such prayers is on his two wheeler riding at 30 – 40 kmph? Drivers already have the risk of potholes, other speeding vehicles, garbage strewn over the road, footpathless roads, cows, pushcarts and now blind belief.

Blind belief here is in the literal sense – the belief which blinds you for 2-3 seconds. But the vehicle must have gone forward by about 15 feet by the time the driver comes to senses after his mobile prayer. I wouldn’t want to travel with such a cab driver. There is no dearth of temples along the roads and it is a habit of the riders to turn to the direction of the temple, close their eyes, not caring about fellow riders and pedestrians and risking their lives.

Well.. may be they believe God(s) would take care of them.

500 days left!

Imagine.

Imagine a world when the entire human male species are about to be wiped out by some strange phenomenon. The event would happen in another 500 days.

All the babies being born in the world are females.
All the males are slowly dying. Death for a male in 500 days is for sure. While the females die as it was earlier.

Imagine.

There is no time left for a drug to be researched and developed to sustain the life of males. Nevertheless the R&D process has commenced. The Olympics will not have gents events any longer and hence the Olympic Council has decided to conduct olympics every quarter. So is the case with all other sports events.

Imagine

Gentlemen rush to write their wills and party every all night.
Resentments with the neighbours are sorted out.
All goodbyes are replaced with "C ya up there"

Imagine

Females have begun underground meetings, rewriting the constitution, redrawing the geographies, drafting the laws and electing leaders.

Imagine.

Imagine the only place which would thrive in business.
Imagine the only place which would make millions.
Imagine the only place which would be THE sought after place in the next 500 days.

Beauty Saloons?
duh!

No

The Sperm Bank!