We are the Zombies

Roads all up and down

Twisting and turning and flying all about
There are tail-light rubies ahead and head-light diamonds on the right
Approaching and passing and over-taking

Highways of metros, never-ending

No intention
No destination
Just rushing past
Running past
Aimless
Directionless

Catching up with who knows what

We all pursue something invisible
Drunk on ambitions and aims, unquenchable

Just zombies zombies on the road

Wild and focused and bewitched

We were told

To run, we run

We don't know why

We don't know where

Run and pursue an expectation

And if achieved...

We don't know the intention

When we run aimless, we live
We never reach a destination
We don't know what to believe

We can't stop
We can't think
We are ruled by the rules

We have no free will

Fulfilling a collective thought
No dream of our own
And no direction
We are the zombies zombies
On the road

We just run
We just rush
We don't know why
We don't know where
Just zombies zombies
Of the system

Zombies
In an urban fantasy
Zombies
With no brains
Zombies
Zombies
Zombies

Deep in my Soul, I dance alone

Not always, will you have

Happy thoughts and sun shiny days

Not always would there be

Chirping, singing birds and glorious mornings

Not always will you receive

Welcoming smiles and big hugs

Not always, would the laughter echo

Not always would the people stay

But also, my dear heart -

Not always, would it pain so much

Not always would the night be so long

And the darkness so dark and deep

Not always would rain hide your tears

But always, it will make the whole earth smell divine

Not always would the sun set in the sea and disappear

Because always, it would rise out of the sea next day

Not always would it be so hopeless

Because always there is a new dawn and life goes on

Not always would the quiet nights instill fear

As always, Nature's music would rise to a crescendo and then back again to a lullaby

Not always would all this pain stay

Because always, the only constant is change

Life would be incomplete if we didn't have our own passions and faiths to turn to when things get crazy.

My existence would mean nothing if I was not blessed with my writing skills and my love of music and books.

I read to divert my mind from all the drama.

I write when it all just piles up too high and starts to suffocate me.

And when I simply want to forget,  I switch on the music, switch out all humanity and dance alone till all pain and fear and hurt dulls down to nothing.

An Ode to the Elevator - In Prose

There are so many human inventions that have made our lives easy. And one of these is the elevator or "lift". It has become so much a part of our daily routine that we rarely even acknowledge its existence or its importance. Perhaps, this is the reason why the elevator does certain things to grab our attention in so many minute ways. Minute it is, but very effective.

So this is my Ode to the Elevator.

Please forgive the creative liberty, I am better at prose than poetry.

But I would still prefer to call it an Ode. What else could it be?

(Wow! That did sound kinda like poetry, didn't it? *wink wink*)

So most of us staying in urban areas live in apartment complexes. What other choice do we have? A city made out of seven separate islands, mushed together, which can no longer grow horizontally, has to grow vertically, right?

Only those who still live in the old-fashioned "ground-plus-3" (also called 4 storey buildings) are not using elevators once they reach home. But they still face them at work! Most of them, at least.

We will then, start off with the housing complex lifts. The newer developments have more fancy, steel-doored, closed and claustrophobic type of boxes. But we will talk about the good old, grille double doored, beeping ones. Hehehe. Beeping ones. Yeah, they used to just beep or make strangely classical music sounds back in the days. I am lucky to live in an apartment with a beeping lift. You open the door, it starts beeping, then you close the door and it stops beeping and takes you where you wanna go. Simple.

It doesn't say, "Please close the door. Kripya darwaza bandh kijiye!" So many of them say that these days. It seems like this elevator doesn't want you to open the door under any circumstances!

You know, having a wild imagination can create some really zany images in your mind. 

Whenever I get into this talking lift which keeps telling us to "Please close the door" I always imagine a grumpy faced lady with a frown but paradoxically, an extremely polite voice.She is like this invisible entity who resides inside the lift, like a ghost. If you open the door to enter the lift, she keeps telling you to shut the bloody thing. Once you shut it and press the floor number, she will calm down. But when you reach your destination and try to get out of the lift, she will again get annoyed and tell you to shut it! "Kripya darwaza bandh KIJIYE!"

Then you have a whole lot of other scenarios happening in a regular housing society. You ignore the screaming lady all the time, so sometimes she just shuts up completely. It simply means that the elevator breaks down. I stay on the 5th floor and in the past 10 days, the elevator broke down thrice! I come home from work, tired and hallucinating about my bed. But once I reach the building lobby, I realise that I need to climb 5 floors to reach my home! Elevator - why you do this?

We all have quirky neighbours creating their quirky situations. One lady visits another lady. They may have sat and chatted for hours, but when the visitor is leaving, they chat at the doorstep. Visitor calls the elevator, elevator arrives, visitor opens the door but both ladies still keep yapping away. Visitor keeps moving inside the elevator. One. Step. At. A. Time. Each step taking 5 minutes. BECAUSE THEY JUST CAN'T STOP YAPPING! And all along, the elevator is screaming, "Please close the door. Just shut it, ok. Shut that damn door, woman!" Well, what I mean is, I would say that if I was the invisible elevator lady.

Just imagine if you are standing outside your door, waiting for the lift and the lift is in the clutches of visitor lady. "Aapki lift mere kabze mein hain." Maybe, you are getting late for work. Or worse, you are going for a movie! Or catching the very specific 9:23 train to somewhere! This yapping lift-kidnapper is making you so very late. If you have to climb down, you may run down the stairs. But what if you need to go upstairs? Like, your bladder is about to burst and you just wanna get inside your home and run to the washroom! And the lift is being held hostage by a couple of chatter-boxes.

Finally, when the lady condescendingly gets into the lift, says all the ta-ta-bye-byes and comes down and gets outta the lift, do you give her that really dirty look she deserves? Yeah! Satisfaction.

But a kid gets in with you. With his or her bike! S/He twists the bike first this way, then that way. Then every possible way to fit it inside the small space. You help, because you want this torture to be over soon! Then you realise that the kid stays a floor below you. So, when s/he gets out, same twisting and turning and other jazz to get the bike out. Do you face this, too? Or is this just me?

Do you go through the nightmare of listening to ghost music/chatter from the elevator? What I mean is, you know you shut the lift doors when you rushed into your own house, but do you know for sure that they did get shut? Do you hear the lift screaming non-stop and wonder who left it open? Is it on my floor? Let me take a peep and see! Oh thank goodness, it is on some other floor. But then, why are those people not shutting the door? Yeah, someone left the door open a tiny bit and lift started screaming after they went away. But people staying on the floor where lift is screaming are ignoring it completely. Someone is on the ground floor, banging on the grille, trying to grab someone's attention that the lift doors are open. So, "please, pretty please, just close the door, man!"

Crazy isn't it! One little elevator and so many things it does to make our day.

Then there is the swanky, steel-shiny, extremely clean office elevator. (They hire house-keeping staff to clean them. So, don't feel too guilty if your housing society lift is not as well-maintained. It works, right?)

My office has 6 elevators, 3 in one row and 3 in the opposite row. It is manufactured by an international company which has a global presence. You will see their elevators in most countries. I guess, this is why they didn't bother with creating a localised lift-lady-ghost-presence. The office lift-ghost lady talks with a strange English accented voice. We have an S floor which is actually the ground floor. There is no basement, but above the S floor, we have 3 parking levels - P1, P2 and P3. 

When the lift opens on the S floor, she informs us that this is S floor (which sounds like, "F flow, some effing floor. How can you name a floor S, what does it stand for, anyway? Just get in or get out on this F Flow")

The 1st and 4th and 5th floors all sound like "fufth flow". While getting off on the 4th floor, I have actually told her, this is not your "fufth flow", this is the "foth flow." But she never listens. Just keeps talking. "Lispy-F flow, going up", "Sevempth flow, going down".

Then there are cameras inside the lift. I wonder what conversation the camera and lift may be having. Imagine a scene like this:

Camera: Hey lift, check it out! Guy wearing floaters and tie!

Elevator: Stop calling me "lift." I am not from around here, you know. Oh, "2nmpth flow, going up!"

Camera: Hey lift! Stop being such a snob. Look at that woman, checking herself out in the mirror. Hey lady, do you know you are being recorded? Hahaha.

Elevator: Ooh, there is a large crowd getting in, I am being crushed. Help! BEEP! BEEP! OVERLOAD! Aaah, that's better. Well. "FUFTH FLOW, going up"

Hey, by the way, have you ever waved at the cameras inside elevators? Just like that, for no reason? Or made faces at them? Please say yes, I don't want to be the only loon here. I wonder what other tortures the camera goes through, eh! *Evil grin*

Commercial buildings also have a separate service elevator hidden away very smartly. It hides away the housekeeping staff taking out the garbage, and other stuff that the white-collared employee never sees. This is not about discrimination. Maybe just to keep things organised so that the outer front of a professional building always look squeaky clean and tidy. Yes, these buildings are sometimes too tidy, aren't they?

At times, the regular elevators are too full and there are too many people waiting to get into the first one that opens on the ground floor (Lispy F Flow). In these situations, I go behind the stairwell and take the service elevator to the "fufth flow". Hehe, now you know my secret.

When a couple of my office's security guys saw me waiting there for the first time, they were quite surprised and amused. So was I, in fact. They had just walked in for their shift and were in their regular clothes. I had never seen them without uniform before this. That is another thing which the service elevator hides. It helps people go to their respective floors in civil clothing where they go to their changing rooms and come out as security staff, or housekeeping staff, or canteen staff.

So I reach my floor and this is a different world altogether. Because this is the chaotic world outside the service elevator. It is scary and spooky with half-torn boxes and broken tiles and cement bags heaped in a corner. I turn another corner to enter the stairwell and pass a few broken chairs and tables and other discarded furniture. Then I go out of a door and enter the stairwell, out another door and into the spic and span entrance lobby of my floor. Now I know where all the broken things go before they are carted off to the scrap dealer. Just a few steps away from each other - one end is neat and professional and swanky. The other end is; meh, who comes here, anyway? Let's just dump stuff!

This area reminds me of the cliched elevator scenes from horror movies or TV serials. The bad-acting-hamming-spooky-music types. Where the elevator is this closed box, an enclosed space, and there is always a girl stuck in it. Miss damsel in distress with no knight in shining armor. Boo hoo. And to add to the drama, she is claustrophobic. And the elevator stalls! Nahiiiiiii....!

Awww, did you get scared? *demon laughter*

The elevator is like an Indian daily soap. It has action, drama, gossip, fun and mystery.

You never know when your next elevator ride may turn into an adventure! (Now, are you scared?)

Did I just dream about my past life?

Well, I travel to work in a bus. Office transport, luxury and air-conditioned bus, with satiny blue curtained windows, individual a/c vents over each seat. Very comfy seats at that!

Yes, OK I will stop boasting. I know I know, everybody travels by luxury bus many times and it is no longer a big deal, yada yada yada. But we travel in this thing every single day. Ta-daaa!

Oh yes, I stay far away from work so it takes one hour to reach. And the comfort makes it easier to travel. I get to doze for 15-45 minutes and reach office fresh.

Sleep also means that sometimes you get to dream. Most of the time, you dream about random stuff which really doesn't make any sense when you wake up. But it is hell lot serious when you are in that dream. Mostly, it is something related to the daily routine, personal things, family or friends. But most of the time about work, colleagues, and more work.

The other day, my team-mate was telling me that she has been dreaming about us (our team, work, etc) everyday and she hates it. She doesn't really hate us, but c'mon! You are with a bunch of loons half of the day, every single day for 5 days a week. No matter how adorable they are, at least when you are in the comfort of your house and especially while in deep slumber, the last thing you want is to meet this bunch. Again!

I like my dreams to be a bit like an escape. Something that is fantastical or soothing etc. Basically, anything that is faaaaaaaaaar away from reality but very feel-goody, tickly, rose-tinted glasses type dream. Sigh, that rarely happens.

But, sometimes, you get lucky. Like I did.

I believe I dreamt about my past life. It was a sunny day. I was in a huge private garden/lawn. It had these expansive grounds. With verdant green grass. Sloping, manicured lawns, stone work fences, arches with creepers crowning them, studded with flowers. It was very vast and curving, with steps up here, down there. Large, sloping and lazy steps in a place which seemed quite natural. Each step was overgrown with grass or weed-like greenery. Then there were quick and short, stone steps at many other places. The sun shone happily over this world and it was a lovely afternoon.

There was an airy stone mansion in the distance. With arched windows whose borders were painted red. It was this geru red, which is the colour of natural red clay. The walls were white. There were pristine white curtains at the windows. Broad verandahs with cane and bamboo furniture, upholstered with old-fashioned seats and cushions. There were potted plants and flowery shrubs all around the periphery of this mansion. And there were these evergreen, leafy and cool-shaded trees growing around it.

This is actually a common feature in old bungalows or mansions built for government officials in small towns or villages. Typically the highly placed officials who keep getting transferred from place to place, en famille. And they are given these lovely residences wherever they get posted, for as long as they are to stay there.

In my dream, I stopped as soon as I saw this mansion. I didn't go in. I really really wanted to. As if this was my house. Everything was so peaceful and quiet. Like a lazy summer afternoon. The summer vacation type of feel in the air, when you don't need to go to school for a couple of months and are free to roam and while away your time. No questions asked. Not only that, it had such an old world charm to it. Like it just didn't belong to this era. I felt as if I had been transported back in time to those days when life used to be much more simpler, the pace of life was slower and you could trust everyone you knew. I could imagine myself sitting in a wide swing, sipping on some tall and cool drink, maybe home-made raw mango juice!

But my true self had half awoken seeing this amazing beauty. So my dream self could not step into her own house. My true self kept saying that I was trespassing on someone's perfect world. And slowly, the dream broke and I woke up. How very disappointing!

But the scene stayed with me. I kept seeing it over and over again in my mind. Why did I wake up?

I yearn for this picture that I saw in my dream, but it is so far removed from my reality that my conscious mind rang warning bells and brought me back to solid, stark and harsh truth. I am in a bus, on my way to work.

What if this dream wasn't a dream? (Oh yes, brain! I won't give up nor will I give-in to your practical thought process)

So, what if this wasn't a dream at all? Was it a half-remembered day from an actual life I have lived? I really like that thought. I believe in re-incarnation. Whenever I visit old buildings or historical sites, I get filled with this strong urge to hunt for a time machine and go back in time. It feels as if there is this really thin veil which is keeping me away from that era and I just need to lift it. But I don't know how! This dream, too, gave me the same yearning, the same urge. To go back in time and never return.

I wish I could live those long, lazy days. With no TV. Meeting people in the neighbourhood daily. Having a very limited social circle. Living with an innocent belief that the people you know very well are always trustworthy. Not having to worry about big ambitions and long-term goals and planning well ahead. A simple life with very basic needs and a lot of happiness.

Or was this dream a projection of this urge of mine? Because I want to run away from my reality for while and I long for a simpler, more peaceful life, I just conjured-up this image which worked like a soothing balm for my tired Soul. Maybe.

Life has become so harsh, so insecure. Maybe, the past days were not so rosy and maybe those past people lived a rougher life than I imagine. But I do imagine it was a fuller life.

When children used to actually run outside and frolic freely. Parents didn't have to worry about kidnappings or worse crimes happening to their babies. The open areas were left well alone and were not eyed by greedy developers. When people used to put pen to paper and write long letters. They DID care about handwriting and grammar with full sentences and complete words. An era when texting was not invented (how I miss those days, only because people used to make efforts with spelling).

A time when egos were not so bloated and interpersonal relationships were solid. When trust and belief were not just words, but really meant a great deal.

I wish I could go back. I know that I can't. Nobody can. But I really wish life would become a little less complicated than it is now. I wish we could trust each other more and become worthy of each other's trust. I wish we would be less superficial and more grounded. I wish people would stop being so besotted with outer looks and started giving more importance to the intrinsic uniqueness of each person.

I wish I could live in a world like this. I wish.....

Indian Identity Crisis

India.

The land of contradictions.

We proudly boast about our diversity. The language, dialect, culture, food, clothing etc changes every 12 miles on an average. There are over 1000 different languages. And still we are one nation - proud of our roots. We have evolved, grown and absorbed outside influences and wear our identities as Indians despite the various differences.

If we go back to our history textbooks and look a bit more carefully, what would we see? Wars, invasions, visitors from other countries doing trade with us.
The Mughals, Chinese, Portuguese, French and majorly British have left their stamp on our own culture. Nobody can deny it. The remnants still exist and the facts are documented. I won't go into detail because the influence is so vast. Be it the Urdu language and shayari, the music, the food, some social customs and manners. Or the bigger things like railway, post, telegraph etc. They might have been started to make life easy for the East India Company. But did the Indians throw these things out when the Brits left India? NO. Why?
We also started relying on these things. How can we throw out progress?

We have absorbed so much and yet we have managed to remain Indians. We have kept our identities and moved ahead with the times.

We started off as an advanced civilization which was famous for its industry, trade, knowledge and art. Think back on the times that we have read about the Nalanda University which used to attract students from all over the world. The Silk Route which is still followed by bohemian back-packers who just want to relive part of a forgotten past. The ancient but advanced knowledge of medicine contained in Ayurveda. The advances of surgery including plastic surgery which were invented by our ancient sages long before they were "officially invented" for the rest of the world. The knowledge of shipping, military, commerce, mathematics. Remember Aryabhatt and Ramanujan? The shrewd politics of Chanakya? The gorilla warfare tactics of Shivaji Maharaj?

Yes, we are the land which invented the ZERO!

So what happened to us now?

Fusion music - destroys Indian culture. Modern clothes - destroy Indian culture (strangely this applies only to women. Men since the time of my grandfather's generation have been wearing trousers and nothing seems to be wrong with the culture). Accepting same sex couples - against Indian culture (have these people been to the Khajuraho temples? They are in for a shock!).

Freedom of speech - technically my fundamental right! But dare I raise a voice against true injustice. I might just get bumped off out of the blue. Freedom of expression - this one too is my fundamental right as a citizen! But look at some of the painters, musicians, artistes and how their expressions of art are defaced with black ink and the artiste is paraded on a donkey with a garland of footwear! Where the heck is civilization?

What the hell is wrong with us now?

There is something else which is also diverse, tolerant and ever-evolving, like our country. But, completely and totally free of opinions and prejudices.

A single entity which is truly Free. It doesn't have a language or a region or any religion. Neither does it belong to a country nor to a culture. It originates in one place, gets inculcated in another, moves somewhere else and never settles into any rigid form.

MUSIC

That is my escape. Maybe it has origins in Carnatic Indian classical form, but some sufi became friends with it and they moved towards middle-east. They added a few Arabic notes and accompanied them to western shores. They mingled with jazz and blues and reggae. Some got mixed up with a rebel called Trance. Wherever they went, beauty reigned supreme.

They don't recognise geographical boundaries. They don't understand politically correct behaviour. They are notes and they create music. It is boundless and without boundaries. It is purely emotive and full of emotions. It enters through the ears, touches the heart, reaches the Soul and resonates through Existence. It is fluid and formless and Eternal.

Like a walk on the beach, lashing of the sea-waves, bare feet on fresh green grass, birds chirping at dawn, serenity of twilight, mystique of a moonlit night, the gentle touch of a furry little friend - music just seeps into your Soul and applies a balm of peace and serenity. Just switching off this world and switching on some music makes me calm down and remember that things are changing.

There are so many positive changes, too. We have become much more aware of our rights and our surroundings. We have a handful of good citizens who do make a difference. Everyday heroes like you and me, making each small deed count for someone. Making someone's day, bringing a few smiles, adding a bit of joy.

We as a Nation, are going through a major churning. Another Amrit-Manthan, maybe. The mythological amrit-manthan didn't just produce the Elixir of Life. It also unleashed a few demons and a Pandora's box of negative things. Good and bad came out of it in balance. It looks like we are going through a manthan in reality. Sometimes bad takes over, but at times good also wins.


Yes, we are like a bickering Indian joint family these days. At times, always at each other's throats, not respecting each other's personal space or opinions, getting on each other's nerves. But we stay together. At the end of the day, we are diverse but united. We are all same intrinsically, and we know this. We know that, in the end, we just need to accept the differences and smile because we cannot live without each other.

Like the different genres of music mixing and merging to create magic, absorbing the good notes, modifying the bad notes to become part of the never ending opera of Life.

Decision

(Originally published on 13th May 2008 on another blog I own)

Wind and rain and sea breeze………wild and freezing and tempestuous.

The sea is so inviting. All I need to do is just walk in. Just keep walking. Surrender.

The sea is very soothing. It makes me feel peaceful, careless, ruthless, rash. I rush headlong into the waves. They caress my feet, then my ankles, then my shins. I am being swallowed whole. I am knee deep into the lashing fury. Now it’s trying to throw me out. It doesn’t want me to do this. The sea is filling me with courage and hope and strength. It wants me to face this life…….the way it is. The sea wants me to make a decision. Take a stand.

I come out and walk on the soft sand. My feet feel pampered on the wet earth. I am soaked to the skin and shivering. But I am warm inside my heart. Someone, up there, in the blue skies is standing by my side. I feel Him around me today. In everything. In everybody. He is inside me, around me, for me. I am for Him. I won’t let Him down.

The words are still echoing inside my head. They resonate and boom like a gong. But they are not painful anymore. They will be forgotten too. I WILL move on. I WILL not look back.

I am moving back towards him. He sees me with a worried face. He knew what I went in the water for. He was scared I would do something like this. I smile at him. He gives me a wan smile. Unsure, sad.

We walk back home. It’s the same sad scene that I had run away from. The same loneliness. Despite being together. The same sense of desolation. But a heretofore unknown kind of peace.

This relationship is DEAD. Its time to bury it and forget. Forgive and forget. Its time to get rid of the pain forever. Death is not the answer. I’ll learn to live without him. He’ll learn to forget. We’ll live a better life apart from each other. The time for togetherness is gone.

I will live for myself. I will love myself. I will cherish me. If God loves me so much, what does it matter if a few people don’t?

I WILL LIVE BECAUSE THIS LIFE IS A BLESSING, TO BE CHERISHED.

A Dream that turned to Dew

I originally wrote this on 4th March 2012 and shared it as a Note on Facebook.

Here lay I 
On the verge of Dawn 
At the end of a restless Night 
Thinking thoughts of you...
Through winding lanes and nettles lies 
The path of my life so far 
There's just onward to go 
There's never turning back 
From step to step 
And beat to beat 
From thought to thought ahead 
Ahead the endless march proceeds 
On two lonely feet 
Hither I never hoped ever 
For another to walk by me 
So my nettled path I made so narrow 
Sufficient for me. 
Now when you hold my hand 
And walk in step along 
And smile the smile you know so well 
I just cannot fall back! 
I don't know how to widen this way 
And why don't you mind the thorns that lay 
In this my life's pathway? 
Why do you seem so happy to be 
Just here besides me? 
This journey so far has been so long 
So long weary it was! 
But no companion walked with me 
Who made it quite so far 
Beware beware my friend beware 
This Heart has burnt to ash 
If you seek apple blossoms fair 
Here your hopes will be dashed 
My friend just be by me 
But don't dream any dream 
For dreams are mist 
That turns to dew 
With the dawn's first wish!

There's a thing called Love

There's a thing called love that we all forget
And it's a wasted love that we all regret
You live your life just once
So don't forget, forget about a thing called LOVE
---- Richard Bedford, Thing Called Love

Love.

What is the very first thing you feel when you read this word?

Take a moment and think.

Once the slideshow of memories and emotions that this word brings, are over, what is left?

Elation. Happiness. Peace.

Or is it regret. Pain. Fear. An intense urge to close this blog and run away to a safe place inside your own mind.

It is said that this is the most powerful emotion. Most powerful weapon, even. True, isn't it? It evokes such varied scales of thoughts in one single person.

Where does it come from? Heart or mind? How can you be sure? Can you ever be?

I find Love very deceiving. What we expect and what it actually does are two different things. It deceives us all at some point. If it isn't present, it makes a person feel empty or incomplete. When it arrives, it is a tornado that uproots everything and leaves devastation in its wake.

Devastation could, at times be a boon. It is a chance to reconstruct and re-evaluate. Make a new life.

Most times though, devastation is pure damage. People move on, but it is never the same again. So, if you want to go away now and read no further, I will understand. Writing this is painful enough.

Maybe, I don't have the capacity to handle this power.

Devious. Deceiving. Alluring. Evasive.
It is all this.

Elation. Hope. Fear. Happiness.
It makes me go through these.

Don't limit it. It can be romantic. Or paternal. Or maternal. Friendly. Pally. Neighbourly.
It could be a teacher. A mentor. A guide. An angel. A devotion. A prayer.
It may instill respect. Faith. Divinity.

It is an entity supremely independent of any shackles. It is free. It is a gypsy. It is heartless.
It affects Mind, Body and, Soul alike.

You can't tame it. You can't own it. You can't understand it. You can't control it.

All we can do. Is feel it.

So, how do you feel about Love?

The Hamlet inside us all!

To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them: to die, to sleep...

-----William Shakespear's Hamlet

We go for the movies to leave behind our realities and routine for a few hours, laugh with the characters, soar with the camera angles, flow with the music and dream impossible thoughts. But the movie ends, and life catches up. Hunger, thirst, going home, traffic, all of it encompasses our thoughts. The movie then remains just a movie. Liked, disliked, enjoyed, debated, recommended........but always.....just another movie.

Sometimes, one movie, one story, stays with us. This one stayed with me today, walked out of the theater with me, has taken deep roots in my mind.

This movie is Natsamrat. The story of a star on his decline. A celebrated stage actor who bids adieu to the stage to take a quiet retirement. But fate has other plans. Thomas Hardy would recognise this story's mood. His characters, too are mere puppets at the hands of fate.

"A resolution to avoid an evil is seldom framed till the evil is so far advanced as to make avoidance impossible."

-Thomas Hardy

There are so many ways in which this story touched my Soul. It went deep inside my being and twisted it around. My love of literature, language and drama was pampered by the sheer magnanimity of these characters. But on a deeper and personal level, the story pinched my heart and made it weep.

A person, loved by many for his talent. A celebrity. A notable name - unloved and cast out by his own family.

I know what it is to live like that. I am a common person with no celebrity but I know what it is to be the black sheep and how to learn to be proud of being one.

I know what it is to create family members out of strangers, because the ones given by Lord don't care about you.

"कुणी घर देता का, घर ?"

Nana Patekar delivers this monologue. The angst, fear, pain and tiredness of his character are real. He has reached the end of his tether and is unable to handle any more pain. His world has collapsed, his own people have betrayed him and there is nothing to live for. This is not relegated to mere physical homelessness. We take our existence so much for granted, we don't realise what it is we are living for. We all have our reasons, our families, our people who make a home. If these reasons stop existing one day, we would be homeless too. It doesn't really matter how much money you make, how big your house is and how many people know you. When you are facing the last few moments of your life, who sticks around with you? That is all that matters, eventually.

To be or not to be..... This was Hamlet's monologue. There is a Hamlet inside us all. He questions our existence and our Reason time and time again. In Shakespeare's play, Hamlet is contemplating suicide when he delivers these lines. All that he questions is still relevant today. This is what made Shakespeare immortal. His words, his thoughts and his insight into human psyche. Time has moved on, but human psyche hasn't changed much. We have the same joys, the same fears and the same insecurities even today. Nana Patekar's character has brought to life, many of these classic characters on stage, including Hamlet and King Lear. And they have lived on inside him like ghosts till the end. Constant companions, like a burning talisman, keeping him company when all else is gone.

I don't want this monologue of mine to be a spoiler. And as it is, describing how this movie affected me is not easy. You may not feel the same way. But you won't step out of the theater without being touched. When I entered I was curious. Even though Nana Patekar is a versatile actor in his own right, I knew he had stepped into big shoes with this role. Dr Shreeram Lagoo made Ganpat Belvalkar immortal on stage and recreating that magic on film was not easy, I am sure. Nana Patekar does it with aplomb.

His hospital scene with Vikram Gokhale shows the strong bonds of friendship between their characters. This is a jugalbandi without song or shayari or instruments. The symbolism of their dialogue is genius writing. On the outside, it is a scene out of Mahabharata but delve deeper into the meaning and you will know what made this play so different. After all these decades, this story is still relevant and relate-able. That is the common thread between Hamlet and Natsamrat. Both stories are timeless.

Kusumagraj - V.V Shirwadkar (वि वा शिरवाडकर) wrote the play originally and it has now been made into a film. This itself may have made many people skeptical about watching it. If you have been feeling this way, go ahead and watch it. If you can't go to the theater, buy the DVD when it releases but don't download this one on torrent. This one deserves the amount you will spend on it.

Watch it till the end credits roll, that monologue is not worth missing.

Night Owls

Nope. They don't do mornings. They are fast asleep in the morning and they wake up sometime in the afternoon and wish everybody around, a "Good Morning."

The BPO and IT sector, night shift jobbers. The night owls!

They are a breed of sleep-deprived, zombie-like creatures. They are extremely polite and well-spoken and diplomacy is their second nature. Most of them get hired mainly for their communication skills! Besides having a broad exposure to technology and international culture, this breed is urbane, smart, confident and self-assured.

When you pass a commercial sector of your city on a post-dinner drive or while returning late from work, you will see them. Outside the gates, hobnobbing over cycle-wale ki chai-biscuit-smoke.

Yeah, the resourceful Indian jugaad brains at work! Don't have enough capital to open a restaurant? Just one bicycle and excellent resources to manage snacks? Phikar nako! Take the chai, kaapi, wada-chutney-tamaatar saas, cigarettes, maachis, lighter and what-not in a biiiig bag. Put it on your bicycle and stand outside the gates of any locality with a large number of BPOs and IT companies. And voila! You have a profit-making business venture which could fund anything from monthly household expenses to funding children's education to buying a house in an impossible city to actually opening your own restaurant!

Well. it's not like these corporate offices don't invest in a simple thing like a cafeteria for their employees. There are mostly multiple cafeterias and pantries within a single organisation. But there is either no space or no permission for a smoke zone and employees walk all the way outside to smoke. At such times, it is quite a blessing for them to find the cycle-wala. At times, the night owls just want to leave their cubicles and desktops and stretch their legs. Get some fresh air and have a small breather. So, there are non-smokers too, in this crowd.

This is like a staple diet. Almost an addiction for some. Tea, coffee, smoking.

Keeping awake for the shift, they are ultimately unable to sleep at night, even on their days off work. And the day off is not necessarily a Saturday and a Sunday. It could be any day. The two work-offs might not be consecutive, it may be a Tuesday and a Friday or a Wednesday and Saturday. "Woohoo! I have a Saturday off next week. I can meet friends and maybe my siblings!" Sounds familiar? Yeah, that is a night owl.

But they have figured out ways to juggle their personal life and their crazy work schedules. Some have office-funded blackberry phones and laptops (they are expected to return these while resigning, by the way). Some rare lucky ones have the option to work from home if they can't come to the office for some reason.

Disclaimer: This doesn't apply to majority BPO employees. If they can't come to work, they get an unplanned leave. Paid. But unplanned. Affects the appraisal, this UNPLANNED! Oh yes, this is a big word.

Imagine the saas-bahu serials with a shocking scene. Someone jerks their head at the camera saying, "Kya!?" and the editor repeats it two more times in the final cut, with every person present in  the scene showing varying degrees of shock on their face. "Kya!? KYAA!!?? KYYAAA!!!??? Music - Dhadang-dhadang-dhadang!!!!!"

That is what an unplanned leave is for a BPO employee. On the day after your unplanned, half of the floor would be asking you, "unplanned maara kya?", "ab kya hoga tera?", "appraisal aa raha hai bey!" It is a paid leave, let me repeat that. But, it is unplanned! Unplanned!! UNPLANNED!!!! Dhadang-dhadang-dhadang!!!!!

Yes, they can plan their leaves, but let's not go there. Officially, these night owls are decently-paid to well-paid staff with all legal privileges (like PLs, Compensatory Offs, Work offs etc). I will leave it at that.

The other major factor in their routine is the one mentioned earlier, the BREAK! Maybe, a novel can be written on this topic some day. Most people reading this will understand the pain experienced while discussing breaks. So, please understand if I don't elaborate.

But life is not interesting without the painful moments. There are many happy moments in this routine. Mumbaikars please note, night owls travel against the peak hour traffic. On the way to work, as well as on their way home. Take that, you bloody 9-5ers! They enjoy the fresh night breeze and quiet streets. They can sacrifice 2-3 hours of sleep when needed, to get something done on a weekday! Banking, documentation, picking someone from the airport, you name it! And go for their shift afterwards as per routine.

Life is different, but it is more interesting. Because these zombies are not like the so-called "normal" people, they develop a different world-view. They are less judgmental and more accepting. Biases, stereotypes, various types of differences get dissolved because they are alike in so many varied ways. They are in-tandem with current times and less willing to be tied down by traditional social expectations.
Talk to a female employee from this breed and you would know!
They are the most misunderstood breed at present. But that is what makes them special. They have exposure to a larger picture of life.
The relationships that have blossomed in these offices have better balance and less gender-defined roles. It is not at all a rosy, goody-goody picture, but it is surely better than it was over a decade ago.

Many have been through this zombification and then moved on to a life of more freedom. Left cushy jobs to follow their dreams. Used their savings to fund creative ventures and made a roaring success of it. Over a decade ago, when educated freshers were struggling to find a foothold in their career path, the BPO and IT sectors opened up opportunities. Yes, it is outsourced. Yes, the shifts are rotational with crazy week-offs. Yes, it is stressful. No, it is never going to be easy. And that is what makes the night owls stand out from the crowd! Zany, butt of jokes for their relatives and neighbours, facing prejudice from the society at large, this is the breed which is standing strong and growing.

Love us or hate us. It is impossible to ignore us.