Old and New

So we shifted houses last week. Nothing great, we just came down to the 5th floor from the 7th in the same building. We've changed places 3-4 times, we've changed cities and even Countries. But shifting from the 7th to 5th floor has been the most challenging thing ever.

You tend to take it lightly. 'Cuz in the end, its just 2 floors down. So you leave everything till the last moment. Then suddenly the new occupants arrive out of the blue, with all their stuff and you need to move out asap; a week before you actually intended to move. Its CHAOS.

Between all this chaos while packing and moving, you come across these tit-bits that are of no use but you have this clingy feeling towards it. I hate this clingy-ness and this feeling of 'oh-what-if-I-need-this someday-and-don't-find-it"? And for some reason, i was not clingy to anything. After all if you don't get rid of the old stuff, there will be no place for the new. There was just one problem.

MY father. The king of Cling.

He was like Kreacher from Harry Potter. Everything that i would throw out he would somehow smuggle it back into the house stating some or the other use. From old wires ("What if I need it for the music system?"), to shirts ("This is pure Australian cotton, i can use it for yoga !!"), from books and magazines... 8kgs of them ("What do you think i'm going to do after I retire? Read these of course!"), to pen caps ("You always keep losing pen caps, keep them together and then you can replace these with the lost ones"), from crusty battered bags ("Ah! I'll keep the phone and electricity bills in these" ) to broken radios ("It's not broken. Wait I'll fix it.").

All this stuff did go, but not when he was around. (Don't tell him though).

The more he kept stuff, the more stuff I threw out. We opened our box bed, which we didn't touch, ever since we came to Mumbai 7 years ago. Boy oh boy kid we pack some junk! A Broken kid's accordion, a remote controlled car, my old video game, more and more and more books! Mountains of sarees, huge carpets and thick, knobbly, wooly blankets. After throwing out most of the stuff, I looked around and spotted the huge mound of blankets.

"These, have to go!", i said pointing at the blankets. "They take up space and you don't need them in Mumbai anyway."

Mom grabbed a bundle of soft pink blankets. "I'm not throwing these ones, they're very expensive and they're in a good condition."

Sensing the finality in her tone, I went for a set of revolting brown and orange blankets.

"And these? Throw these"

"These were given to us as a wedding gift, but I guess we can throw them away now" Mom said a little hesitantly.

The last two blankets will very thick, white, had some painted designs on them and were very heavy. So i dragged them out and said, "These are going. I've said it. Bas, Enough."

"You can't throw these", Mom said.

"In God's name, WHY?"

Pointing to dad she said,"Ask him".

"Because," Dad said in a wistful voice, "My mother made them for me with her own hands. She stuffed it with cotton and stitched it herself. And painting was so expensive back then but she still got it painted for us."

Mom was smirking at me. She knew all along. Cheeky.

Trying to act unabashed and to fill in the awkward silence, I start rummaging through whats left in the bed. I find a heavily chewed book (No, we did not own a dog when I was a kid, but we did have Rati, you'd never know the difference.)

It was called, "A book about Me!", a Dr. Suess book. After some time i find myself smiling away while reading that book. It was a fill-in-yourself kind of a book. I must have been 5 years old when i filled it. Some of the things I wrote we're quite funny. For instance,

* I wanted a pet dinosaur

*I was "11 centimeters" tall. (I wasn't 11 cms tall, I just wrote I was!)

*I wanted to be a nurse when I grew up (Now, that's news!)

*In the "draw a picture of yourself" part, i drew myself with blonde hair.

* In the ''how many teeth do you have? part" i wrote 12.

*Rati had colored all over the book, distinctly outside the margins... clearly indicating she had no future in the fine arts.

It's the memories that makes you all clingy and weird. We can associate everything and anything with some kind of a memory. And we find reasons for keeping stuff with us so that we are constantly reminded of what it was like. I have a knack of doing that. Who doesn't like to re-live old times? For instance, I have kept all the letters that people have ever written to me. I love reading them again and again. Looking at it on the flipside, if you just keep hanging on to these old memories you're not making room for the new and possibly better ones. The question is where do we stop? Where do we draw the line? The answer- you'll know. In time, i guess, we learn to move on. Life is all about moving forward isn't it?

So the book stayed so did my signed Old DPS uniform, my first DPS Blazer, my Wilson Primary School t-shirt and yes, so did the blanket. We brought everything down with a LOT of effort, re-assembled the bed and started putting things back. And then ... *CRACK* the bottom part of the box bed gave way and broke.
"Oh no! Of all the times it could break, it chooses to break now!" Mom exclaimed, fretting about the all the stuff that has no place to go.

"You remember we bought this bed when you joined DPS?" Dad said.

All I could say was, "Yay!! New bed!!".

Something had to go ;)

Dad VS Me: EduKayShann

I have been really blessed to have studied out of great institutions during my student life (I've just suddenly realized that, now that my student life is coming to an end).

School: DPS Ahmedabad. (Delhi Public School- for all the morons who don't know what DPS stands for)

Jr + Degree College: Mithibai College, Mumbai

Post-Grad: The Institute of Science, University of Mumbai, Mumbai

I am really Happy with my educational line up. Its pretty impressive, actually and yeah I'm being a bit boast-y... but hey, its true! All these places have tremendous "name" value (Don't ask me what that is). And its really been a pleasure being a part of these institutions - The first two actually. The third one...ummm...? At Isc Mumbai... Its been just hilarious. More about that later.

My dad's school line up is pretty amazing too. His schooling years were spent at the local pathshaala, which I, for some time imagined to be under a banyan tree in some remote village of Uttar Pradesh. (I was right about the 'remote village in U.P'). His school was a very basic one, where the 'Masterji' was strict and would frequently whip the the boys with a 'sannti' ( an extremely thin cane). Furthermore, the student who was to face the wrath of the sannti, was made to choose from a selection of sannties or at times was made to go pick one out fresh from the tree outside the classroom. Dad says the thicker the sannti, the better...It hurt less. Yeah, I feel bad when I listen to his school stories. I always picture dad as the bechaara, quiet geek sitting in the corner and all he wants to do is study. I bet dad was the class nerd and homework was it favorite pastime.

Dad went on further to study at the AMU (Aligarh Muslim University) where he completed his Bachelors, masters and his Ph. D. Now that, is pretty awesome. He studied amongst the greats there. He met his guide who invited him to study in Australia and at Curtin University of Technology, Perth, he completed his Post Doc.

So why am i writing my dads biodata here? well its just a comparison his schools and the schools of today- my schools. And he feels students nowadays are in a way better position, as teachers are much better now.

Right...

Heres a conversation Dad and I had today over our schooling. Dialogue time!! :)

So here I am drooling over the computer, oogling at the new Canon SX30 IS (new line digicam) and begging dad to consider buying it for me.

DAD: Why do you want it? You already have an SLR?!

ME: Arrey! We need a new digi anyways, we'll give the old one to Rati. And My SLR has hardly any zoom. I can't take bird photographs when I'm on field.

MOM: On Field!! Tum bade on field jaa rahi ho!

ME: Its high time you accepted that fact mom. Its gonna be my job. Thats what I'm gonna do.

DAD: So you can identify birds?

ME: Of course I can! What do you think?!

DAD: Bachoo, You know who I studied with at the AMU?

DAD (AND I, Simultaneously): Dr. Salim Ali

DAD: Yes, he was the head of the Zoology Dept. Absolutely crazy about birds. Mad.

ME: Well, I'am crazy about birds too!

MOM: NO beta, you're just crazy.

ME (Giving a 'Mom...Please?' look to mom , then turning to dad): No i'm serious!

DAD: (Still going on about Dr. Salim Ali): what a great person! Hardworking, Intelligent and an absolute legend!

ME: Fine! The institute (my pg college) has a great alumni too!

DAD:(laughing) Who?

ME: (Proudly): Dr. Homi Bhabha.

DAD: Who?

MOM: Hehe... He doesnt know.

ME (Incredulously): Arrey Homi Bhabha...Bhabha! BARC!

DAD: Of course I know! Accha... From the institute?

ME: Yup!

DAD: Okay...Who else?

ME: Who else?! Is this a competition?

DAD: Bolo bolo...

Okay, however 'great' my college is, it is no match to AMU. Both of us knew that.

ME: I don't know.

DAD (Enjoying this now): 'Some great science person's name' studied out of AMU, he was my senior. (this was followed by 2-3 more names.)

ME: My college is 94 years old. (Smug smile)

DAD: HAH! My college was established in around 1750! WE have a board to prove it.

ME: So what?

DAD: One of the faculty members of AMU, later went on to be the Governor of Bihar.

ME: The person who started the EVS department in our college, was the Pro-Vice Chancellor.

DAD: Hahaha! Bas? We were taught by Dr. D 'Something' and Dr 'Forgot his name' - both amazing lecturers....something about Curtin Uni.... David 'Some person's' lecture. He could speak from 8am to 5 pm, with as few as 4 breaks, lasting 5 minutes each....Something about water and glasses'... recorded his lecture tapes... the Girl was called Victoria, and i borrowed the lecture tapes from her.

You listen to such lecturers talk and you can't help but wonder, how can they speak like that.

ME: (I'm tired of the best college competition...so have given up, and we all know ISc is nothing as compared to AMU, even now) : Hahaha! you listen to my teachers, you'll start wondering too. Not in the same way though... hehehe

DAD: You feel, as if you're transported to a separate world!

ME: Yeah, I i really wish that'd happen.

DAD: You feel as if you're out of this world.

ME: We feel out of our minds.

DAD: Such greatness!

ME: Such lameness.

DAD: Betaa...aise nahi bolte.

ME: Our Director said, "Welcome to Annual day ten thousand twenty" during his speech on annual day.

DAD: Insaan se galti hoti hai. People make mistakes.

ME: Thrice?

DAD: Oh God. Thrice?

MOM: Enough. Mini, clean your room.

ME: Mom, what about your college?

Mom's studied out of G.B Panth Univeristy of Agriculture and Technology, Uttarakhand- both Under and Post grad- Mass Communication in Agriculture.

DAD (Jokingly): Arrey, wahhan kahan kuch hoga.

MOM (Menacingly): I.said. Enough.

End of topic.

Mom wins.

The Parent Trap

Am i treading in troubled waters?? Naah...
(Boy...i am so screwed!)

And this one's a bit long...you have been warned...



Well Hello...again!

Here I am with another anecdote from my ‘very interesting’, admirable, attention-attracting, motivating, appealing, moving ,exciting, fascinating, mesmerizing, thrilling, gripping, compelling , riveting, enthralling and not to miss outrageously amusing life.

(Whew!! I’ve poured my entire vocabulary in these two lines! Good then, you can learn new words from here…then you cant say my blog’s a waste of time!!).

Its great to know people like what im doing here and its even better to know that finally people are laughing 'with' me and not 'at' me.(Whatcha sayin??You're laughing at me? Heheh...very funny! Go ahead then! lol-Laugh out loud!)



Anyways...Lets Rap...



Well last time I said parents are the last people you should take on 'trying' occasions- such as examinations, interveiws...the works...You take 'em along for 'moral' support and end up...well...loosing yourself.

[Please note that I am choosing my words carefully...v e r y carefully].

You are already anxious, tensed and ready…to run out whenever you get the chance. Your parents are even more anxious and exceedingly tensed and ready to sprint from the vicinity as soon as you enter your examination/interview room. Dunno bout your parents…but my parents really get worked up during my examinations (Why? Wish I knew…on the other hand…I'm fine without knowing…) especially my dad.

Picture this…

My 12th std board examinations. First paper- English.

I wasn’t nervous…at all. Not because it was English, strangely, I wasn’t nervous for any of my exams (Not even Physics!). I got up at 8.30 in the morning, the exam started at 11.00 am and the center was a half an hour drive away from our house- I had plenty of time for a quick revision.
Dad, as my mom told me, got up at 5.00 am. It seems he was waiting for the newspaper. This was weird. Dad never got up so early except when he had to catch a flight or something. I was too busy getting ready than thinking about my dad’s break in routine.

10.00 am, time to leave. I am slowly munching on my mom’s yummy Pohe. Dad is not eating. After mom pleads (and yells) does he have a bowl of cornflakes. After gulping his food, he sits and reads the newspaper for the fourth time. I close my book and continue eating

“Why did you close it?? Are you prepared?” he asks me.
“What? English? Oh yeah…” I continue eating.

He sits down next to me, twiddling his thumbs. I know what’s coming next…

“Check and recheck your paper at the end, draw a line after every answer, write neatly. Take as many supplements as you want…but write neatly! And don’t…”
“…leave the examination hall till the final bell rings… I know, I know!! Chill out dad” I finish
. “ I don’t like your attitude, it means you are not taking your exams seriously.”
“Dad these are board exams…it doesn’t get any serious than this!”
“Are you tensed?”
“Me? No way”
“Good.”

Its time to leave. Dad is pacing up and down the gallery. He’s coming to drop me to the exam center. Mom’s giving me the traditional 'Dahi-cheeni' for good-luck. I open my mouth for the yummy & sweet yoghurt.

“Do you want more betaa?”
“No mum…but I think dad needs it more than I do!”

We both laugh. Dad gets angry…

“We are getting late…!”

We take an auto rickshaw to the center. In the auto, Dad performs a ‘surgery’ on his mobile phone, opening it up, cleaning all the small parts in it and putting it back together.
We reach well in time. We are surrounded by kids doing their last minute revision. I, to much of Dad’s annoyance, am not revising.

“Why aren’t you revising?
“I'm prepared dad…”
“You’ve done everything”
“Yup…everything I could”

Wrong answer…

“What do you mean by ‘could’?”

A group of seven kind stand in front of us in a circle, poring over a textbook asking random questions. At every question they ask, my dad shoots a glance at me…expecting me to know the answer.

“Who’s the author of …”

“Who’s the poet of…”

“What was the reason behind…”

A very frantic looking girl asked ,” What’s the difference between a noun and a verb?”

“You’ve gotta be kiddin me!"I speak in an undertone. Dad hears me.

“Do you know it?”
“Dad…puhleeze!”

The bell rings, it’s just a warning bell.
I'm as cool as a cucumber. Dad’s a nervous wreck.
He wishes me luck and leaves.

Students are clearing off, leaving for their rooms. My room is on the ground floor. I put my bag in and come out again. I glance around, sneaking a look at the other parents with their kids. Some were advising their kids just like my dad was advising me. Some were un-concerned. Half of the kids didn’t bring along their parents.

I spotted a peculiar looking girl sitting on a bench with her mom. Who was more nervous? I don’t know. The girl was almost in tears shuffling around what looked like 5 kilograms of papers and books. Her mother (I could tell so because of the clear resemblance), wearing a formal business suite, was talking on the cell phone, carrying 8-12 files and shuffling through a official looking, leather bound book - near hysterics- and it clearly had nothing to do with her daughter’s examination.

“Poor girl” I thought.

The bell rings. As I turn towards my class, I hear a car door slam. A kid was running in from the gate, with 3-4 books in his hand, in full speed. Running equally fast was his father.

The boy, I guess, had to go up the stairs so he increases his speed. His dad follows suite.

I hear the boy thundering up the stairs. The guard stands in front of the running father’s way as parents aren’t allowed inside the premises.
The father was running in top speed and seeing a sudden obstacle (the guard) standing in front of him, makes a sudden U-turn and without stopping runs back out of the gate!!

I laugh…So does dad.

Where did he come from??

“I thought you left”
“No…not yet. Why aren’t you going inside?”
“I was just leaving.”
“Good luck and All the best”
I smile, “Thanks dad”

I am happy. I'm better off than most of the people here.Dad’s not tensed anymore (for the time being…)
Now for that English paper…

****************************************************************************
I slam the door, and tell Mom,

“This is the last time Dad is coming with me for an exam."

I see dad laughing.

3 months after my boards. I had just come back from Belapur (On the outskirts of Mumbai) after giving my AIEEE exam, which I was compelled to give. I gave it (in the words of my father) “to see the level of difficulty in all India exams”. But after what had happened to me in the morning…Ahhhh!

We were late. Really late.
Still, dad insisted to go by train

“You are going to miss the exam, go by taxi and come back by train” Mom said.
“Arrey, trains are the fastest mode of transport in Mumbai. We are going by train.”
“Do what suits you then.” Mom says, giving up.

We reach Kurla station by rickshaw. My dad was insisting that we take a bus till there! After me making quite a scene at the bus-stop did he oblige to my ‘request’.
It was 10.00 am and the exam started at 11.00am. Reporting time was 10.45am. The ticket line was half a kilometer long.
I was the nervous wreck this time. There is a lot of difference in not wanting to give an exam and not being allowed to give an exam. We get the tickets at 10.15 am.

“How much time does it take to reach Belapur by train?
“You’ll reach in time, don’t worry” Dad says, avoiding my gaze.

Not good…

We can see a train moving in towards the platform. It hardly halts for 10 seconds. Its ‘overly-over crowded’. I don’t even get to see the compartment. We miss the train. Its 10.30am by the way…

“I'm going to miss the exam…I know it…”

My friend calls me up on dad’s phone.

“Where are you” she asks
“You don’t wanna know…”
“Shut up and tell me…”
“Kurla”
“WHAT!? You know the exam is starting in…”
“…half an hour…I know…”
Not knowing what to say, she says, “Well...Umm...All the best”
“Yeah…if I reach there…thanks!”

Another train comes in. I'm ready to pounce in no matter what. So is dad.
The train stops, we push ourselves in. I get in the ladies compartment. Dad couldn’t get in the gents compartment, so he gets in the luggage compartment.

Wrong decision

The luggage compt. carries luggage (Duh!), fruits and vegetables' vendors with their wares and other stuff.
Today’s special?
FISH.
Dad is a vegetarian.

Uh oh…

He can’t stand the odor of fish. So he very promptly jumps off!! The train is moving. My insides go dry. I'm spluttering like a gold-fish out of water. He is standing on the platform. Smiling and waving at me!

“Why??!!” I shout

Dad not accompanying me wouldn’t have been a big deal. It was a big deal then because I did not know where the exam center was!

“Why does it always have to be me!!??” I cry out.
Its 10.45am

A kind lady lends her cell phone to me (I didn’t have one then….). I call dad. I couldn’t get thru to him for the first ten minutes, when I finally do, his message to me was short.

“Get off at Nerul, one station before belapur”

I was left hello-ing.

Its 11.00 am and I'm at Nerul waiting for dad. I see him getting of a train and both of us run full throttle to the exit.

“Don’t talk just run” Dad said when he saw me open my mouth demanding an explanation.

We take an auto and reach the exam center at 11.15am.
There was a tall staircase in front of me. Parents of other kids were standing on both sides.
Many of them shouted,

“Run Run…!”
“Go...Fast….!”
"Hurry up..."

It felt as if I was running in a marathon. I pictured myself running in slow motion…up the stairs…halfway through…I was winning…until…

I fell.

I bruised a knee. I could hear gasps behind me. I hobbled on, cursing the stairs to my allotted room.
I wasn’t the only one late that day. So it wasn’t a big deal after all.


“Don’t ask me how the exam was” I said when I saw dad after the exam.
“I'm not asking” he said.

We trudged along to the station again. I started complaining.
“I promise you, this is the starting piont, we’ll get an empty train.”

The train stopped at the platform. Dad went of to the gents compartment and me to the ladies’. It wasn’t empty, I didn’t get space to sit. But I could breathe.

Famous last words

At Nerul, I swear the entire population of Mumbai got in that compartment. I was pushed against the wall and I had no idea where I was. I remember myself standing near the doorway on the left. After 3 stations, I was standing on the right hand side door. Totally squashed.

3 stations left to Kurla…

I had to make my presence felt. I started shouting.

“Mujhe kurla par utarna hai!” (I have to get off at Kurla!)

No one listened. There were kids shrieking, women shouting, fighting and yelling.
Hell would be better I thought.

Finally at kurla, I was pushed out (A few aunties were very kind to do the pushing part.).
I fell on my knees on the station…

“Land!!” I cried “And I'm alive!!”

A few people actually thought that I had fallen down so they help me up. I see dad and we frantically search for the exit.
We came out of the station. Dad says,

“There’s the bus stop. C’mon”

I give my dad a piercing stare (and no, I'm not smiling….)

“Don’t even think about it…”

We go home in an auto rickshaw. Alive.