$#IT happened one night

"Heard that?????" he whispered.
"Hey...Did u hear that?" he whispered again.This time with more emphasis on "Hey" and "hear".
Varun was never known for his patience. His volatile temper was the stuff of comic book villains. But this was not the time for anger, he must have thought. It was around 2 in the night. And he found the rest five of us fast asleep. Only Selva, who was lying near him responded with "What?" in an irritated tone. Irritation switched sides now. Varun asked "Did you hear that or not?". "No , Say it again?" Selva retorted. "Say what??" Varun was puzzled. "Say whatever you wanted me to hear and let me sleep" Selva said. Varun after a few expletives explained that he heard a constant sound for the past five minutes: as if someone was knocking our window.
Selva looked straight at the window. It was open. He stared back at Varun and asked him "Who would knock on an already open window?"
Varun fumbled for these words "Someone who doesn't need it to be open...or may be its someTHING"
Selva's expressions changed again, so drastically that it was noticeable even in pitch black darkness. Selva somehow tried to shrug his doubts and asked Varun not to scare him. And that he was "already scared liked shit after the long and intense chit-chat session on Ghosts" which we had just finished. "And by the way where's the sound now ? Now go to sleep ...remember we have a match tomorrow. It's a must win. And please let me dream about strategies for the match. This time I've promised not to give a single six in the slog overs." Varun wasn't
listening to anything of what Selva said after he asked for the sound. He was keenly trying to listen if the sound was still there but to no avails. It had stopped just before he woke Selva up. Setting aside his fears he tried to erase the entire discussion and sleep tight . He wrapped himself from head to toe with his blanket and shut his eyes only to hear "Tak ...Tak... Tak... Tak...."
It all began at around 11 pm. We had just finished watching a movie on Andrew's PC and were about to begin the next, when someone suggested that we watch a Horror movie. It was holiday time and the almost empty hostel wore a eerier look than it usually does. I got excited and added that even bad horror movies would have seem scary because of the empty hostel, provided we don't mock it from the beginning and let the effect seep in. Others bought the idea pretty soon. But not fate. We din't have a single movie of a genre even close to horror . It din't seem to matter. As Andrew was searching for a movie on his PC, I began narrating a story of how my friends once watched RGV's "Bhoot" (no pun intended) at around midnight and after that when they went to the beach, both their bikes stopped in front of a "haunted" bungalow. The bikes wouldn't start for fifteen minutes despite their best efforts. Finally, they pushed it for some distance and then tried and surprisingly both started. Wasn't scary enough they felt, only till the incident repeated itself while their journey back home.They were so terrified that they din't
speak a word after the bikes stopped for the second time. They just pushed the bikes enough to cross the bungalow , started them and sped back home. As if replicating what had happened, none in my audience uttered a word after I'd ended the story. Vinay, as usual, tried to crack a PJ that ,again as usual, backfired. The momentum was slowly building up, Everyone started narrating their stories. Each trying to outdo the other in the story's goriness and in the same breath, its authenticity.
Varun was the only one who silently kept listening to all of them. How was he supposed to know that he would figure in an even lengthier horror story of the "yeh-to kuch-bhi-nahi-hai" mode.

All those stories must have ran in a fast-forward mode when he heard the sound again. This time he din't speak a word. He was waiting for someone else to speak out. But none did. He eventually nudged Selva, woke him up again and signalled him to quietly listen to the sound. But the moment Selva opened his eyes, it stopped. Just before he tried to return to sleep and finish off the remaining three balls of the the over he was bowling in his dreams, Varun nudged him again indicating that the sound had begun. Selva did not react at all. But Varun could hear it loud and clear. With no pattern and no rhythm, it just kept on going. but Selva's indifference was
making it spookier. Varun got up, switched the lights on, and woke everybody up. Even before he could start speaking, Andrew blurted out "Don't tell me you saw a ghost or heard her "Ghungroo ki awaaz???". He had spoken for the rest of us as well and so there were slight giggles which stopped almost abruptly when Varun narrated his part of the story. It seemed like the silence before a storm. We all broke into thunderous laughter, taunts and every other derogatory mode of expression. Vinay, in a rare event, was laughing at someone else. And Kasi pointed out even that. Soon we were all exhausted and back to our beds. Varun wasn't allowed to speak any further. But he was relieved to an extent when he thought that atleast now he had
more people awake with him. And that he could sleep before the sound returns and even if it does, with more people awake, the chances of someone else hearing it were also high. Also, Varun was farthest from the opened window. There were two double cots arranged to form a right angle and two mattresses laid on the ground, where Selva and Varun were lying. I was on the upper berth of the cot just in front of the window and Vinay was on the lower berth. Andrew was on the upper berth of the other cot. We should have reacted first, he thought. His state of mind was pretty apparent when he refused to switch the lights off. "We don't mind. Its you who is not able to sleep" Vinay said. After trying hard for five minutes Varun finally decided to switch the lights off. But he wasn't going to get out of his bed. He got hold of a hockey stick lying nearby and then reached out for the switch. A few unsuccessful attempts and embarrassing expletives (from Andrew) later he managed to pull it off( or is it push???).
The cycle began again. He could hear it; others refuted his claim; he tried convincing. Somehow, things calmed down for a while, when all of a sudden he woke up screaming like a mad man. Apparently, he heard a very loud noise just near him. As if someone had banged the steel table with a hammer. Nothing changed in our responses. He could not believe that no one else could hear it. Andrew confirmed his fears “ If you were scared by the stories, you should have asked us to stop or if you were shying from that you could have at least left the room mid-way and gone to sleep, instead of hallucinating weird things now and trying to scare us.” Varun was tired of arguing and now was looking for proof to confirm either of their claims. Then came the next bang, the loudest till now. He nervously inspected the table. There was nothing spooky there. It had only two objects. A huge lock and a bottle filled with water. He showed us and tried to explain that someone could have thrown them both on the table and thus the the sound. “It was me” Selva interrupted “who kept them both there when we were about to sleep and you are the only one who got out of the bed and you are the only one who’s hearing it all. So ..please stop this shit….Will you?”
Varun, shocked by both the sound and the ridicule had some water and was about to leave the room to refill the bottle. We were still not moving. “I think you guys are scared by all this shit. That’s why no one’s getting out of bed. Isn’t it?” He shouldn’t have said that, he would later realize. Kasi got up and went with him till the water cooler. Varun entered the room and placed the bottle on the table at the exact place from where he had picked it. Before Kasi could get in, a very heavy voice in a hushed tone called out “Varun, come out here son”. That was more than enough for him to get hysterically loud “See..I told you…Now he’s calling out my name….You
surely heard this or you are all deaf” . “Are you deaf?” asked Kasi “the watchman is calling you… go …and tell him that we are not drunk and we’re not watching any movies”. This was the most difficult of all situations. We all had to control our laughter, for if the big fat watchman heard us, we would ‘ve to hear a loads of BS from him on discipline. Somehow, we managed to shut up. Though we knew that he wouldn’t do us any harm. Varun had befriended him after one such lecture.
Meanwhile, we'd decided to spare him of any more insult and acted as if nothing had happened. The lights were already switched off by Kasi, so we couldn’t enjoy the forlorn look that adorned Varun’s face. Moments later there were two loud bangs in quick succession on the same table. This was followed by another one on the floor and a continuous knock on the window. 'It could be the lock and the bottle again on the table and then the bottle might have rolled on to the floor' he wondered. He remembered that he himself had kept the bottle on the table. A shiver ran down his spine. But he was determined to not react. He din’t utter a single word for the next fifteen minutes, despite the knocks. Slowly his blanket slid downwards. He was holding it as tight as possible, but it came off his face. He was still not giving up and kept pulling it back. All the while, keeping his eyes shut, like a child afraid of Gabbar Singh.

This time we couldn’t control our laughter.

Note: Some names changed to retain my identity.

My Bus Rout(e)ine

This happens everyday. I start from my cubicle in office about fifteen minutes before the buses are scheduled to depart. But still I fear not finding a seat or finding the last seat. A few rounds of inquiry later when I near my bus, I join a queue to make an entry in the trip sheet before boarding the bus. Suddenly people rush in from somewhere and after confirming the bus route, pretend as if the queue is full of Hollow Men and Women. A few Taunting looks and words
later they acknowledge us, poor souls. After that disgusting disgruntled feeling of not being able to use certain words for such people when I get into the 'partially' full bus, I'm greeted( ?) by dull ,familiar faces, almost all tilted to one side or the other and at various angles. They're on the phone, and most of the rest are using headsets. I start looking for a seat. The last row is vacant. The row before that with dimmed lights hosts a couple(the usual one). All other empty seats are reserved by bags (mostly ladies), empty tiffin boxes, id cards and even human beings. People here somehow find ways to allocate themselves with required resources. I find myself a seat. Only to find a disappointed person at the next seat. The reason for the disappointment might vary with gender but is very understandable and relatable. Within seconds I feel like I'm at different places at the same time. A call center with multi-lingual customers, a 3-D psycopath movie and don't know what not. The noises are so many and so varying that it takes sometime for the brain to filter out the useful ones and throw a "No results found" message. I try to get the windows opened. But the Windows (expectedly) open very slowly. Seemingly, they're very tightly shut and only that's why the person next to me is "can't able to open it". I move to another seat to accompany a bag on the neighbouring seat. For some relief when I peep out of the window, I notice a a few girls strolling around, with tilted heads, of course. Most of them look sad, a few smile, on the phone (i.e.) as if it was a favour , a non-functional requirement. With five minutes to go all of them get into the buses. One of them replaces the bag near me. I'm not that disappointed. Soon, she gets a call. And the rest as they say is Her-story. I suddenly get an idea to note down so many different events around. What'll I do with it? I ask myself. "Write a blog" pat comes the reply. "Who' s going to read it" I wonder. "Who needs to?" I decide. I start typing on my mobile. I'm not accustomed to typing on the handset I'm using. I struggle for quite some time. Meanwhile, the girl nearby gets curious, pushes her seat backwards and tries to read. She can't . She couldn't have. My handset's display is totally messed up. Only the first and last word on the first and last lines are visible. She resists a murmur. I control my smile. And stop typing. After sometime, when the road gets better again, I 're-start'. By the time I finish typing all this, the bus reaches my place. I get down and look to cross the road. I wait for the next bus to pass by. It stops just in front of me. But I still don't cross. I see the bus no. and then look for the driver. He's busy looking at the door, making sure all the girls get down safely. Nothing wierd, except that it's the same driver who had directed me to another bus saying that his bus was not supposed to stop at my place. As I crossed the road, the driver starts honking, but stops when he notices and remembers me. A sigh induced smile later , I wonder if he might have felt ashamed. but he wouldn't have.

After all, this happens everyday.

Numb-errs

I've always been fascinated with numbers. And I'm very lazy. Thus began my exploration of shortcuts to simplify maths. Since addition and subtraction were the simplest of all, I tried to search shortcuts to ease multiplication and division. This curiousity continued with every new concept that we learned in Maths. Percentages, percentages in terms of Profit and loss(or is it the other way round) and so on. My friends din't help either. Vivek and me used to calculate percentages for all the toppers. We'd always be stuck with some girls' score. As they were very secretive about marks (like some boys). But still managed to get most of it from reliable sources. And my first real Eureka moment happened after I learned the rule for divisibilty by 3 and 9. The rule: For a number to be divisible by 3 (or 9), the sum of the digits of the number should be 3(or 9) or its multiples. every number I came across was put to the test. I used to spend all my evenings with my Dad at the shop. And sitting there, I started applying the test to the numbers of the Vehicles that passed by. My challenge to self was to test as many numbers as possible. Just for the heck of it. The hunt for the shortcut begun. Soon , I observed that adding 9 was of no use. So I started leaving out the 9s. And then started forming 9s first and then counting the rest and so on. I was very excited to find out something new about numbers on my own. And told it to a few friends of mine. They asked " So what??". I could never answer that question. Not Yet.A few years later when all this seemed childish, I lost interest. More so when I heard my Dad's friend stating my "acute Observation" in a matter-of-fact manner, while discussing Numerology. (Probably, that's a reason why I hate numerology). It was common knowledge, it seems. And so it ended there.Last week I met a friend of mine after a long time. While in flashback mode, I told him about this. He said that CAT material has a lot of such shortcuts. So instead of searching the already -found and widely known techniques, better read it. He wasn't as discouraging as the last line seems to me. But that night, it all started again. This time it was (or were) multiples of 7. I found a pattern in the their sum of digits till you get them into single digits. And the next morning multiples of 13.

Here it is:

7---------7

14-------5

21-------3

28--10--1

35-------8

42-------6

49--13---4

56--11---2

63-------9

70-------7

77--14---5

84--12---3

and so on..the pattern was 7,5,3,1,8,6,4,2,9,7,5,3,1,8,6,4,2,9,7................

With 13, its a bit more complex though

13-------4

26-------8

39-------3

52-------7

65-------2

78-------6

91-------1

104------5

117------9

130------4

143------8

The pattern this time is with the alternate numbers 4 8 3 7 2 6 1 5 9 4 8 3 7 2 6 1 5 9.

What was still unknown to me, was the use of these patterns. I could not think of using it aywhere. Keeping that disappointment aside, when I told this to another friend of mine all he said was "Read CAT material, there's more useful stuff there." This was far better a response than the one that I feared. " So what????"

Fear has a new address

That was the note he left. Vijayan hadn'tshow any signs of worry, fear or despair. So when he disappeared from office all of a sudden, the shock was too rude. Everybody was spreading around their versions of the story. But none of the reasons seemed convincing, to me at least.
A week passed by and by now the fear was raging epidemically as more such cases of sudden disappearances started surfacing. All chit-chats were centred on this single 'issue'. The new IPL ad seemed prophetic now. Even at home, my roommates shared similar incidents involving their colleagues. A lot of these cases had untraceable causes ( and subjects) and each of the rest had numerous causes speculated. The most prominent of them; getting two '2's. Initially it was only the appraisal rating that people were applying this criteria to. With time and a rising headcount people started getting hysterical about the two 2 's theory. Some started changing their phone numbers, others shifted their cubicles and all in the process were crossing unattainable levels of stupidity. "Catch 22 situation" It was called. I asked one of my group of 'believing' friends about how this was related to Vijayan's note that had the number "13" and not 22. Someone said " 3 minus 1 ...Two..""Fine..but where's the other two?" I retorted. Mr. Five pointer answered " 3 plus 1 is 4 and two 2 s are 4..that's it." I was stunned. "You better stay away from it" he added.
Shocking or Ridiculous??? I was confused. as scenes from movies like Number 23 and 13B started running through my mind and I now starting counting my TWO bits..None since I'd started working..But ...my Birthday ...22nd DEC...Suddenly a shiver as cold as Titanic's climax ran down my spine. But that eternal optimist in me still felt that the Logic seemed skewed. But that seemed normal around here, especially with Numbers. People considered 3.99 as 3 and then blamed Arithmetic Atyachar on weirdly shaped curve. (It's got to be the only curve that I hate.) And the rusted Irony...they call the process NORMALisation.With pretty decent appraisals so far, that devil seemed too far to be feared. This was something else, I was sure. With my eyes fixed at the code ahead and mind counting the number of 'if' s and 'else if' s of the possible dreaded logic, I had entered an infinite loop. The loop broke with a "New Mail" pop up. Hoping for some relief I opened the mail only to realise that it was like a spray of iodised salt and black pepper being showered on an fresh and open wound of the size of a fist with an adamant middle finger. Our project was being scrapped and all of us were to be released this week itself. Before I could drown into sorrow I turned towards my Teammate for some company. Rakesh with his consoling but confused smile asked me "Next is what??" and started giggling. I used line that quite often after I'd picked it from a Samsung ad. And the last I had used it was two weeks ago. Vijayan had just got released and was going to....Before the sound of that Thunder could end and the loud BGM begin, I leapt over to Vijayan's place to check his note. The one that was written with blood coloured ink using MS Paint. As I took the print out in my trembling hands, I realised that all I had to do was connect the dots, all of them. The joy of solving the mystery rammed straight into the chances and fear of me being the next victim of the curse. You can run from it. You can even hide from it. But you can't sit on the BENCH.

"I'll Manage"

One bright morning,
in a chariot of gold,
with four white horses,
all of the racing mould,
I set out on a journey,
towards the prosperous west.
Leaving the clouds behind,
we surged without any rest.

"This looks very pretty,
Easily, I'll manage" I said.

While I enjoyed the ride,
with nowhere to steer,
the horses kept leaping straight,
not knowing where to veer.
One by one each of them,
had started and now raised the whinnying.
But I wasn't going to stop,
Not till I wasn't winning.

In their pain, I saw no reason.
"Weak horses. But I'll manage" I said.

With the sun setting down,
and light fading away,
I began to ponder,
if we were losing our way.
To be where I wanted to be,
a map I needed to plot.
In my haste and gleeful frenzy,
this I most certainly forgot.

Ah!! these blind horses
"How'll I Manage? " I wondered.

Adding to my woes,
came a frightening jolt.
All of a sudden,
we came to a halt.
Devoid of thoughts,
some help I brought.
A ridiculing laughter later he said
"Why have cubical wheels, you got?"

Dumb horses or Mute Mules?
"However, I'll manage." I said.

Dragging along and
struggling throughout
We barely scrapped and
made our way out.
I could've planned
and got round wheels,
let the tired horses
cool their heels.
I was warned enough,
but went for the gambit.
Though the mistake mine,
had others pay for it.

No matter how much the damage,
I always told you "I'll Manage"

Good Old days

No nostalgia to be poured. Just a rant on a very disturbing trend I observed and was wondering if it was only me who's feeling this way.
From what's happenning around me and what I read and watch on TV, somehow I get a feeling that being "BAD" is the "IN" thing. The meaner, the cheaper you speak, behave, the higher you raise yourself on the "Youth" qoutient. They seem to be no spoilt or misguided youth. Instead they seem to have deliberately chosen to wear this "Attitude". Roadies , Splitsvilla (from whatever little I've seen) seem to be the torchbearers of Gen-$#@$%#...Almost every second word on the show is beeped. What should have been a measure to hide the expeltives has now become a sort of attention seeker. I wonder if the people who speak all those words actually count theirs and are appraised on that criteria. Almost, all my friends use expletives (including me). But make sure it reaches ONLY the intended audience. Here, its a totally different story. Actually the reverse. Speak as much ill as possible of all those who are not present. And thats one thing catching up a lot. I myself have witnessed many such instances. Criticising or making fun is one thing and ridiculing and humiliating "friends" in their absence is another.
And of course this "I'm bad" trait spills on to every other aspect. Social conciousness is something that's become as extinct as Ganguly's antics. On asking my friend to not litter on road, I got one the most ridiculous responses one could ever come across. " Come on, its public property and I'm public" . That Abhishek Bachchan's punchline from Guru could be misused to this extent would 've been the last thing that even Mani Ratnam could've imagined.
Even if these things seem trivial, how about people preferring to read "Chennai Times" over Times of India on the day after (the nth) Serial Blasts.(they aren't any different otherwise). I could go on and on with this rant. All I could gain is being titled as "Preachy". And tat reminds of a superb Public Servive Message that used to air on DD
"Shaitan banna aasan hai,
par kya insaan bane rahna itna mushkil hai??"
Roughly translated as:
"Its easy being evil,
but is it that difficult staying human??"

The Nation’s Call

(Following the HR people’s policy of boring a person to the core, but beginning with another boring game, let me start with discussing a very popular game.)

The most popular game in our country is obviously not Cricket. Even those disinterested in cricket indulge in this game called “The Blame Game”. (On a more serious note).The current state of affairs in our Nation is a consequence of this never-ending game. Many campaigns have been launched, even more movies have hit the screens, but they don’t even seem to touch the self-built wall of ignorance that surrounds us.
And so, one fine day, I decided to ‘call it a day’ from this game. Then began, the phase of self- introspection. Umpteen questions were hovering all over my mind. Questions that I was I forced to ask myself about the world around me. Questions that we all (CITIZENS of this Nation) need to ask ourselves. “Do we demand our rights???” , “Do we perform our duties??” , “Are we actually aware of them???”, “ What exactly is the reason for this mess??” , “Finally, What is the solution to all this???”

Then, came the answer form within. “Nationalism”. This was the one-word answer that echoed from my conscience. . The Media refrains from using this word fearing the “Right wing” tag attached to it. But have the media ‘Intellectuals’ ever tried to ‘Press’ for a debate on the issue of Nationalism. The lack of the feeling, or, misuse of the word. Never !. Forget it. Anyway, this a very popular feeling , but a dormant one. Nationalism needs to be cultivated in proper manner among the easy-going GEN-X.

By inculcating Nationalism, I do not mean that each one of us should sacrifice comfort and start a crusade against Corruption or plunge into politics because that again needs courage, which most of us lack. But we can at least add an additional thought before every deed of ours. I feel that if most (if not each one) of us start considering our acts in the perspective of National Interest, even the Heavens would envy our Motherland.

National Interest lies in the less talked about deeds like Dumping Garbage in a dust bin, saving water and obeying Traffic Rules to the highly publicized issues like Corruption, Terrorism etc. Now, I cannot put an end to these, neither can you. But together, WE can at least reduce it.

“Cleanliness is next to Godliness”. Most of us would‘ve heard this, few of us would’ve seen it and even fewer of us would be following it. The reason is that we never thought the consequence of dumping garbage on the road as we were busy discussing the shine on foreign roads. It costs us nothing to keep our surrounding clean, but making it dirty costs us, our reputation, tourism and most of all our Heath. There’s no use of being a Wealthy nation if we aren’t a healthy one. Saving water and obeying Traffic rules don’t seem to be issues at all. Are they?? But just imagine the lives that are lost because of the Draught and speeding, out of control vehicles. I believe we can save a lot of them if we actually practice what we read in those umpteen forward mails or blogs.

Don’t I have anything good to say about our people? Yes, of course I have. There are Indians figuring in ‘Richest on Earth’ list and their count is next only to Americans. But then, why does one among every three of us live (and may be die too) below poverty line. Again, we all know the reason. On one hand we refuse foreign monetary aid and in fact help out neighbours during disasters such as the 2006 Tsunami and on the other hand we pile up NATIONWIDE Flood Relief Scams. Today, as onlookers we blame the officials, but tomorrow (not the immediate one) when we are in-charge, we do the same. It’s a strange paradox that most people hate corruption but almost all follow it. (This virus seems to be multiplying at a rate faster than our population). A nationwide crusade is a fading possibility, but we can do our bit by at least not demanding a BRIBE, when we are the babus.

Another menace that we face today is Terrorism. The new age war has shifted from ‘highly’ militarized border to civic locations like places of worship, busy markets, crowded buses and even more crowded trains. The danger is now even greater as the threat seems to be coming from within the Nation. That these crimes involve sophisticated technology and impeccable planning shows that there is no dearth of Ignited minds. Only, the fire here is destructive. And the leaders, whom WE ‘elect’, instead of extinguishing it, are using the heat to bake their cake. This fire, if used in National Interest can definitely fuel our Success journey.

Issues like these make a long list. But listing them down is of no use, until we understand that since we created them, we need to solve them as well. The time has come for us to stop discussing solutions, instead, be a part of it. The time has come for us to come out of the Individualistic mindset, instead, be part of a Nationalistic Movement. The time has come for us to erase the welfare circles that we drew around our family and friends, instead, consider our actions in the context of Country’s welfare. The time has come for us to devote our senses to the Motherland. The Nation’s call is quite loud and clear. Lets wake up, open our eyes, listen to the call and answer it with more than just a

JAI HIND !!!