Monthly Archives: November 2011

LIFE IS STRANGER THAN FICTION-PART I

I often used to ponder upon the above thought; can life be any stranger than a man’s imagination? There have been numerous examples where the vagaries of life have shocked us beyond reason, but still one can only appreciate it only when something strange happens in his own life or with someone he is very close to. One of the major black spots of our logical brain is the inability to fully understand complexity of relationship with people around us, there is no mathematical formula or a theorem which can cover the entire range of permutation and combination our mind does in a relation or is forced to do so. So finally cut the philosophical bullshit and let’s come to the point, I have an amazing story to tell, but it’s not mine, it happened with my closest friend, while we were travelling in a train chair car- Sampark Krantii. His seat was on the window side , but i was too quick to for him as always to let him have the pleasure of cool wind through my hair, only to regret it later. After 15-20 minutes the kranti began its journey from Smokey Lalkuan to Delhi. We had to appear for the our first job interview for a company which has a Japanese brain and Indian Skelton which got badly shaken in Maneser. So along with my dad’s tie I had also squeezed two production engineering books in my bag, with the hope that without even preforming welding ever, I will be able to master it during the five hours of second class Indian rail travel.
Well how much were we successful is the burden of this story. As all great authors do, let me begin with the character sketch of the hero of the story. We both had first met in the thermodynamics lab which is now a museum for outdated boilers and crank mechanisms, he was wearing metal rimmed glasses and a Tollywood style moustache. Nearly 6 feet tall, he was looking out of place in the land were 6 feet is a rare feat. It was his first day, but there was no sign of any nervousness while he started chatting with us within 5 seconds of his arrival, actually he got ambushed by a group of nasty charged up seniors before coming to class, who bombarded him with all forbidden words ever invented in the land of five rivers. It was his first time so he was quite shocked. I don’t know why he took a fancy for me and stuck with me all the time. He actually joined the course a few days late, so I was the victim of his insatiable curiosity about this god-forsaken place .
After three and half years , we are at same point where we began, the fear of ragging and teachers has now been replaced by placements, competitions, GPAs, future and what not. There is no respite in life, it’s just like in video games- you have to move from one stage to another, but in life there are no extra chances. We imagine that after achieving this or that, we will become somewhat different or we will begin to enjoy life more. Well, I don’t disagree with the sweetness of success, though I have forgotten its taste since matriculation, but this is an illusion of the Maya or Matrix that keeps us plugged in, forever shielded from our real higher purpose. Are we living a life driven by reason? Well the answer is no. We are driven by our egos, urges and habits. Why can’t we live a life which is under our control? Why can’t we transform from Mr. Anderson to NEO? These are just the tip of the iceberg, there are tons of unanswered questions which our mind asks, ponder on these and the purpose of my blog is complete.
Let’s get back to the bogey number D9 of Krantiji. My friend has a very nagging habit of making fun of people, in other words, he has a real lethal sense of humor which can infuriate anyone to the point of blows, but his intentions are innocent, he likes a laugh now and then, but by the time you realize this fact he has already stripped you of your mask and either you fall for him or you begin to hate him. If someone tells me to plot the graph of his life, I will simply draw a range of mountains, because everything with him is simply extreme- full of peaks and pitfalls most of which are his own creations. Well his native state is always on the front page due to extremism, so it should not come as a surprise.
Within half an hour of train safar, I began to feel for my books, they must have suffocated, so let’s air them. Aakash our hero (name changed to protect identity), initially refused to take any of the two books in his guardianship, but after getting bored of bird watching, he decided to unravel the mysterious difference between shaper and planer. He was itching to unload his pressure on any hapless person, but unluckily there was no one ready to take the bait. But wait, there was a ceaseless chatting and laughing going on the seat next to us. Two girls were watching some farewell videos on their laptops and laughing as if they were watching The Simpsons or Scooby doo. Aakash was curiously staring both of them. But both looked like veterans of eve -teasing and they ignored his staring on their laps and tops. But fate had something else in store for Aakash . He usually never likes to have conversations with strangers, again because of his lethal sense of humor, so there was thin chance of any sparks.
Out of the blue, a cop appeared with a ladies’ purse and began to ask for its owner. It caught the attention of all the bored passengers except the chicks, who were busy with their ceaseless chatting, oblivious to everything around them.
When the cop came to their seat with the purse, one of the chicks suddenly shrieked. It that was her purse. When she had opened her laptop bag, the purse must have slipped and slid to cop’s seat- how lucky, but instead of feeling embarrassed or shocked, they started laughing more and more, now they finally caught the attention of Aakash . But he still was not passing any comments quite shocking na! Maybe the pressure of interview had killed his killer instinct. But meanwhile, he was also trying to fill his brain with some technical bullshit, just in case he survives more than one minute in the interview.
Now I again got lost in the world of welding and gear manufacturing, but what brought me back was the giggling of the girls on our hero’s comic timing, I caught him by the neck.
Me: What’s going on man?
Aakash: Arey just nothing, she owes us 2 rupees I paid for her bisleri, so I am making fun of her worth at least 2 rupees!
Me: Okay, but please don’t cross the line, I don’t want to add sexual harassment case to my resume, remember that.
Aakash: Chill man, you know how much I have changed .
Me: Yup, who knows that better than me?
Aakash: Don’t you worry buddy, continue with your welding while I am entertaining the passengers.

Well both Aakash and the cocky chick sitting next to him had become the cynosure of every body’s eyes. Most of the people shut up when they realize that everybody is listening to their silly conversations, but not our hero. This thing adds fuel to the vulgar jokes search engine in his head. One thing leads to another, and suddenly two people with equally venomous tongues were dueling each other in the bogey number nine of Sampark Kranti. Every single soul in the compartment had his ears perked up, listening to their sharp taunts and comments on each other, it was like a movie shot from any other Bollywood movies, the only difference was that the dialogues were created instantly and delivered like hot pizzas in full public view. He had finally found his counterpart who was equally adept at making fun of others, so it was like the clash of titans, It was honey to my ears whenever she got the upper hand at him, but gradually they were cooling off and turned on the lesser mortals like me and her more cute and silent friend. He introduced me as big hot shot singer of the college, as soon as these words left his anemic lips, both girls jumped and asked for my autographs on their soft palms, had it been a eating joint or some other rendezvous, I would have thanked lord, but here with 100 eyeballs on me, I simply refused. They started enquiring about my singing capabilities and career, and before I could even part my lips to answer, Aakash had begun my biography.
To be continued………………………………………………………………