Grumpy's vacation log - part1

Last Post - September 09, 2006.

So the question is - why now? Well, it's just that I took a break from work and felt like scribbling again. Why am I blogging? Well, Singh is (http://i-have-a-brain.blogspot.com/)- so why can't I? Or maybe I'm just testing if the Analyst's got any creativity left.

Note 1 - Work-a-survivalic Off Power -

Saturday, March 13, 2010.
This Saturday was different. Grumpy woke up at the same time, logged on to the Laptop, did the same downloads, documentation and e-mailing. But all good things come to an end sooner or later. Things were about to change. Sallu was doing a cheesy detergent ad, KKR was winning a match, Schumi was setting hearts racing again. So Grumpy logged off and packed his bags. Yes, Grumpy's on a vacation (well, a break at least) for an entire week. He's going home. Because he was offered a leave. Because he booked tickets for a train that goes home. Because he needs to. This was all Varsun's idea - the client's on a vacation - why don't you go as well? Team spirit and all that. Grumpy, tired of being Grumpy, grunted his approval. New Credit Card - VISA power - the rest is history - or will be. Enough of the third person - I am Grumpy and this is my Grumpy tale.

"Vacation" - "yeh to kaam kaaji logon ke liye hota hain bhai - khair hum bhi le hi lete hain." Can't go home empty handed - so I bought a clay depiction of Ganeshji swinging between a couple of trees, veena in hand - pretty relaxing imagery. Hoping it survives the 2 day long journey. Hoping I survive it - although I've spent 3 quarters of my railway life on this route. Now, as I sit on the burning hot pyre of my opted-for window seat - with strangers spitting underneath my window, I'm forced to ask myself - why, Grumpy, why? I could've been idling away my time peacefully at home, caught a movie somewhere (though my recent picks - MNIK, KCK have been disastrous), gobbled up a buffet and been in bed all day. The answers are not too far. The dark eye-pits, a mechanical brain sending feelers for the Laptop, a Grumpy stomach which has not seen a worthy Roti in weeks - they all squeak - "Get a life, Grumpy." Or at least get out of this one.

I'm distracted by a little kiddo who missed her daddy for half a min - when he said goodbye and got off the train. More on the paternal pangs later. My train just left Bangalore for Chennai.

Let's do a Train vs Office comparison -

(a) Train - uncomfy seats vs 'hmmm-to-aaaahhhh-to-ooooohhhh' chairs at office.

(b) Train - strangers all around, free food for an Observant mind. Office - well, I know a lot of ppl, some of them are even friends - it's different.

(c) Train - food is cheap and varied, a conquest for the grumpy tummy. Office - safe and healthy food court and cafeteria - can't imagine any harm coming from that - and it lightens the pocket as well.

(d) Train - this journey's actually going somewhere. Knock Out punch.

Note 2 - Going 'somewhere'

Still Saturday, March 13, 2010.

Note to self - 'find time to read a newspaper everyday and Mint Lounge on weekends.' I like the snobbish attitude and sharp editorial. Anandi got shot - I'll have to wait for 2 days to get to a TV.

The Railways' in-house entertainment just blared on - a croaky rendition of 'Baazigar, o Baazigar', accompanied by a drunk harmonium player - oh baazigar, oh u poor baazigar. Dimpu (copyrighted mascot of MA Content and Remnant teams at Mu Sigma) whistles better than this - or used to - till someone (there's just 1 suspect) de-vocalised him, castrated his vocal balls. I paid the desi band 10 bucks to shut up. They didn't. I probabaly encouraged them. The Eunuch who popped in a minute later stopped his show of genetalia for half the price. Either shame comes cheaper for the third sex or I respect artists more. Either way....

There are mainly 3 forms of exercise in a train - well, I haven't heard of a sexual act in an Indian train's toilet -

(a) Going to and fro between your coach and the pantry or the AC coach with the hot chick - depends on what you are hungry for. I chose the former - 6 coaches off, the must-visit pilgrimage on the rail trail - the Pantry. It took me 20 min. of hard labour and uncomfortable body contact to reach the holy grail.

The complication could be - (i) I've become fatter, or (ii) The Average Rail Passenger has become fatter, or (iii) The trains have become narrower. Well, it can't be (iii) - Mamata Didi's totally pro-development. Can't be (ii) either - with the inflation rising and a substantial portion of the nation's GDP going towards MAya Madam's statues, handbags and currency maalas. Can't be (i) - Duh! It's never (i).

(b) Hanging out of the coach's door - quite a rush - I can do this for hours. For the first few minutes of the wind blasting into your face and hair - you go into an 'Absolute zero' state - nothing's going through your head. Then, slowly you gain consciousness of the smallest things - borrowed socks, the reason for that cut on your pinky, the fact that the tempo-wallah made an extra 20 bucks off you - to bigger things - that you left your mobile charger at home, that you left the geyser on again, that you don't have an Id-card to validate your E-ticket - to still bigger things - the screw-up you just realized you made at work, the fact that you haven't saved a single buck in 4 months of employment, that your doctor warned you about signs of heart-trouble - to the bigger job n life worries - to the realisation that your grip's slipping on the door.

(c) The Third one should ideally be a hit - (but this is Grumpy's tale) - Chatting with co-passengers - I'm fine as long as the discussion's not on travel, literature, sports, recreation, cities I've lived in, relationships, engineering, analytics, my past, present and future. The rest is cool. Which explains all the scribbling. Another reason might be to have something to read, apart from forwarded PJs, free gyan, 'business' mails and documentation at work.

Note 3 - Anywhere but 'here'
Yet Still Saturday, March 13, 2010.

Frustu (my roomie cum RVCE EEE batchmate cum cook equals friend for a lifetime) asked me why I was packing in a pile of clothes when I was going home for a week - "Don't u have clothes at home? Or have u grown tired of them, already?" To which I answer that I've only grown half an inch ahead of them. Sometimes Grumpy wonders why all messed up lives can't lead to greatness - making a difference somewhere. The naked truth is that - forget greatness, normalcy alone takes hard work - whether on the professional or personal front. Such train journeys are hard on the psyche - the wandering mind brings back unsettled issues - dead ppl, fractured relationships, defeats, embarassments and longings. Gonna make a habit out of these train journeys - there's nowhere to run - no work, movies or mobile - time to think abt the shit.

Short stay at Chennai station. Dinner over a magazine on a quiet corner of a platform (which was pretty clean, you know) - the giant screens showing Nalli, Pothys, Saravanna, Tata Magic and Railway Safety ads in the main waiting area freak me out. On the train to Jamshedpur, I got the worst seat - Side upper, right next to the door. My co-passengers are all national level body builders - the jaws can't drop any further - I've never seen such a bulky congregation of muscles up close. I've put off my plans of changing into a T-Shirt. The 7th passenger is also a free-loader - probably a GRP - on the TTE's reserved berth.

A glimpse of the body builder's diet - Cabbage, boiled eggs, oranges, dates, Chana, light biscuits, cucumbers, etc. with loads of water. I see cheese in the cabbage strips.

Note 4 - kiddin around

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Almost on the last leg of my trip - a night's left - I've spent the day eating, sleeping, reading - Paulo Coelho's 'The Zahir', watching 'Mahabharata' on the Laptop - informative and entertaining at the same time. The novel's readable - the plot's simple - a love story trapped in a modern post-marriage rut, centred around a writer and his perfect journalist lover - but it's the short sentences, the engaging conversations, the racy yet teasing narrative that keep me interested. After browsing through the first 60 pages, I've filtered through the next 70, picking up just the bare essentials. And reading the ending didn't help either - no clues there.

My fav moments of the day -

(a) a little kiddo in her father's lap - with her father trying to distract/cheer her by urging her to feel one of the sporty body builder's biceps Well, the angel was horrified into tears - the trick didn't work.

(b) same kiddo - same daddy - same situation - prospective distraction for the wailing kid is an old man - with a set of spooky eyes enough to keep me staring shamelessly for a while - but hysterical as the kiddo was, she pointed her carrier in a different direction - anywhere but here!

(c) Kiddo busy testing her teeth on daddy's cheeks as he waits for her to sleep, while socailizing with the ppl around - all in a day's work.

I go to bed with the familiar sense of losing a Sunday doing nothing.

Note 5 - I've been here

Monday, March 15, 2010.
As expected, the morning brings 'Kharaab-Chai-Wallahs', Chatty 'Laal-Paas' Rail Karamchaaris and vacationing families on a marauding conquest. The noise, the chain-pulling, the general lack of respect for someone else's reserved seat, total disregard for basic social rules - all add to the ambience. We reach almost on time and totally without incident.

There was an unfamiliar tingling of a feeling that clung on to me as I made my way to 67, KD - through the polluted streets overflowing with autos (who needs so many of them, anyway) - it took me a while to lock onto what it was - the moment came when I reached my doorstep to find mum was in the garden as usual - I was suffering from 'over-familiarity.' I was here just 4 months ago - for a 3-month stay. Nothing had changed.

I unwrapped the gift I had brought home - the Ganeshji thing - now hung precariously on one side - as mum pointed out her 2 recent acquisitions - a couple of showpieces worth Rs. 15,000 (total, not each!) - a laughing Budhdha (what's so funny about those things anyway) and a vulgarly shiny and exquisite vase - red, gold and white on a sea-mermaid theme. Mine was worth 375 rupees. Mum added coolly- "To kya hua, achcha hain - waise kahaan se liya? Mall se ya footpath se?" It's from a Khaadi Bhandaaar, ppl.

Well, things got gloomier. Dad's friend cum colleague lost his mother. I knew the guy - good man. Like family for us. I dreaded going to the funeral. I've been to one - that's enough for a lifetime. I mean I don't get it - for those to whom the dead person mattered - it should be a personal experience - rather than making a show out of it - trying to see who cries the loudest. For those who didn't know the departed soul- the grief should come from the realisation that they didn't know the dead person enough - or didn't try to. Kinda what I felt at grandpa's funeral last year - didn't know the man. Too busy chasing away my own ghosts. Anyway, I went to uncle's house but skipped the funeral services - mum wasn't too keen that I go either. Since when did my parents start telling me Not to go to functions?

The maid's husband had a major accident recently - knocked down by a tempo wallah. Which meant huge hospital bills, and that from a reasonable prosperity they are now down to begging. Life changes fast. Neighbours, relatives - lots of people are currently unwell - bad times. Nothing's changed.

Note 6 - Feels like home

Tuesday, March 16, 2010.
The Telly's on all day. So's my munching. Mum's sure she's finally gonna get some storage space in the fridge, once I've worked my way through it. I hate watchin cricket on the telly. What a waste. I'd rather watch a soap. At least the ones on Zee have beautiful women in them, the spineless tales notwithstanding. CID's still all that Sony shows.

I spend my first night at home swatting insects - 4 sessions in a night where I have blood sucked out from a lot of places. The new electric badminton does help. Kinda fun as well. Mum's up at 4:30 to water the plants sometimes. The effort shows - flowers, veggies - and mum loves basking in the compliments as well. It's all good - keeps the peace.

Mum has a child-labour gang as well - no ages will be mentioned in here. I dunno what to make of the kids. I mean their emotions are so manipulated - by their experiences, the ppl around them - material gain's all that matters to them. I don't blame them - I just feel sorry for them and envy them at the same time - they grow up so soon. And they are so practical - put in some education and they can rule the world. Or at least they should.

C ya.