The Well of Death

The well of death aka Maut ka kua, has always been my favourite carnival sideshow. The riders are well aware of the risks involved yet they ride around that 'so called well' in a perfect balance. They do it because they have to and once in the well, there is no way out. Either they emerge triumph(which happens everytime) or else the riders Rest In Pieces!

Although I have not seen a show for around more than a decade now but 5 years back, while I was still a naive Mumbaikar, I relived the experience of it but only this time I was the one in the well with 'No way Out'.

One fine evening, me and my friend (another stupid naive) were waiting on a platform for the train to arrive. It was a busy weekday evening and we had never been to that station in the past.We had an idea of the travelling mass but stupidly we calculated it to be no more than any other station in Mumbai or harbour line for the least. Well the train finally arrived and took away our souls. It was already so crowded that I thought probably it was the last local on this route. I mustered all my courage and got ready to board the train but all in vain. I was too humble to harm or push a human. For God sake it was no less than a concentration camp or a rescue operation for earthquake victims.The more I tried the more I receded. Then in a fraction of a second I learned an important lesson of life: "Nobility pays, but not always." With this thought I transformed myself into one of the earthquake victims and pushed a few weaklings to find a spot on the footboard. 'EUREKA'. But wait, A POLE? This support thing (at the gate of most of the Indian local trains) can turn into nightmare in situations like these. Well it sure did, in my case. Now I was stuck in the pole with my body acting as equator! I cried my throat out, I cursed, I panicked but no success. Then all of a sudden, the train came back to life and a gentleman pushed me hard enough from one side and threw me in. My friend, who was by this time tucking in his shirt came up to me and uttered "Yaar ye to Maut Ka Kua hai". And surprisingly Life was peaceful again!

Waah Kurla!

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At times I wonder, itna ghai kaiku? (why so hurry man!). You must consider yourself lucky enough to find a room for both your feet and if by any chance you happen to find a seat, then my friend You are the chosen one! It is like finding a present from Santa Claus because it can never happen, not even once. Once on the train, the idea of personal space comes to a halt. Your space ends where your nose starts!

Getting off the train at Kurla is an art in itself. If you are a proud owner of a weak heart then I suggest you to stand away from the gate of an arriving train. To stand at the gate you must be an acrobat, a long jumper, a macho-man or a brave-heart at least. You can hear your kind fellow travelers yelling from the back "Aey chala", long before the driver even plans of applying any brakes. You have no other option but to give in to the situation. You Jump and You Run. Only this time you find yourself running for the first place on the staircases that lead to Foot over bridge. Because if you are late you will be swallowed by the whirlpool of bodies and life will turn into a Slo-Mo. One can always complete a nap by the time he reaches the bridge!

There is always a mass that I would like to compare to the clapping spectators of Maut Ka Kua. These are the people who leave a particular train in a hope to catch the next VACANT train. This is the smart class. But hardly do they realise that commuters pop out of nowhere here.

At times you may feel happy seeing less crowd at Kurla. Oh! what a lucky guy. You wait  for a few moments and the train arrives. One must never look back in such situations(BMB taught us all!) because when you look back you find a whole army of blood thirsty commuters who are ready for the upcoming bloodshed and also you realise that all of a sudden, you have unwillingly turned into their Commander In Chief  and you are in the front line of fire. Well now, after 5 years in this city I have upgraded to the position of C-I-C and I am always the one to take the first call....SPARTAAA ATTACK!

Khush Raho!  
  

The Contemporary Eklavya

We've all heard, the fable of Eklavya from Mahabharata. (For those who haven't, go to www.google.com and type in your query.) The highlight of his story was the sacrifice of his thumb as Guru dakshina(Ancient terminology for Tuition Fee) to Guru Dronacharya. He was allegedly accused of learning secretly from Dronacharya while he was busy teaching to his star(and rich) pupils, The Pandavas. He was convicted on the basis of posing possible threat to Arjuna, in the future. Arjuna was the prince whereas Eklavya was merely an agile tribalman whose thirst for knowledge made him the most skilled archer in the then India.

Well, the point I am trying to converge to is, "Why the thumb man?".

Imagine Eklavya living in today's world, doing his worldly chores and is the most skilled and talented smartphone user. He holds the world record of maximum high scores. He slashes fruits with minimum effort and smashes all the pigs in one bloody move. He runs so fast that the beast following him asks for a Time-out. He flips 50 times in one fall and surfs for hours together.But he was not born talented. Here is his story:

Eklavya's skills were identified and honed by his Professor Dronacharya, who was the developer of these addictive and wasteful apps. He was the one who gifted him a smartphone which was nothing like anything. He also advised Eklavya not to get too addicted to these apps but as per human nature, Eklavya did the contrary. Eklavya spent daily  2 hours of his journey adhered to the 10 inch wide screen, unaware of the happenings around him. But one unfateful day, on realising the growing skills of Eklavya which may pose threat to the records set by his star student Arjuna, Professor Dronacharya called in Eklavya and threatened him to "Quit Playing Games" or else his Thumb will be cut off. Eklavya being an obedient pupil, DID NOT cut his thumb. He quit his exercise of playing games and now runs a successful coaching business for upcoming App Gamers in a dry town of Rajasthan fooling young Indians.

                                                        xxxxxx----------xxxxxxx

Asking a smartphone user to cut his thumb is like asking a fisherman to cut his fishing net into parts or asking a woman to not use handbag. Its indispensable man.And more indispensable is the use of smartphone itself.
I wonder, what used to be the favorite pastime of train travellers prior to the advent of smartphones. Well, my guesses are:
Sleeping, Chatting, Sleeping, Listening FM, Sleeping, Reading, Sleeping.
As per an independent research conducted by The Society Against SmartPhones(which is presided over by me)
6 out of 10 train travellers stick to their smartphones throughout their journey.
8 out of 10 listen to music(including the above 6 who are using smartphones for multiple purposes)
1 out of 10 reads novel(Jasoosi!)
1 out of 10 does what everyone should do, SLEEP.
(For your own safety, please do not reproduce this study!)

This study is an Eye Opener
1. For all the primitive generations(like the last 2 subjects of our research) to Catch up with the trend of running and
2. For the advanced generation to avoid running so fast so that a single stumble could turn you in a feast of the beast!.

Isn't Life like Temple Run .Running all d way to collect coins. To reach no where & spending those coins just to run more efficiently from an invisible fear!(These lines are stolen)

Khush Raho!

   

   

"The Bearded Office Goer"

DAY - Tuesday
Weather - Rainy
Status - 2 weeks in a new job, late for office by an hour.
Location - Mumbai

(Kharghar Station)
Struggliing with the crowd, I managed to find my spot at the door of local train while my friend is pushed inwards . Generally, I do not prefer standing at the door but I had to deboard at the very next station so I avoided sliding in with the crowd. The train gathered pace as I heard my fellow door traveller instruct me(I'll call him Uncle Sam):
Uncle Sam - (Harshly)Go In. This door is only for 4 people to stand at a time.
(Oh, now I realised that we were 5 of us standing at the door and also I was enlightened to know the new rule of railways!)
Me- Arrey Uncle, 5 minute ka rasta hai. Belapur me utar jaunga.
U.S - This is the problem with your generation.
Me. - Uncle, take a chill pill. Ye garam hone vali baat nahi hai.
U.S - I'll not take a chill pill. Your generation does not understand the inconvenience of  others and take things very lightly. Thats why you render jobless and unemployed.
(I was amazed at the transformation of the topic, meanwhile my friend who is in the same train shouts from behind:)
"He has a job. A very good job."
Me - Yes. I got a job immediately at campus placements.
U.S -  O.K, now i understand what type of college you must have gone through. They did not teach you basic ettiquettes.
(Now was the time I thought to keep mum and let Mr. Frustrated Uncle Sam burn red with anger and rage over younger generation.)
(And moreover I could not argue about the ettiquettes taught in my college.:p.It would have proved a backfire as NIFT holds a reputation of a disciplined college in the locality of Navi Mumbai<sarcasm>.)
After around a silence of 15 seconds, as the train approaches Belapur station, Uncle Sam starts cribbing again
U.S - kuch nahi ho sakta.
Me - <Ignore>
U.S - I am the training head of ............so and so institute
Me - Uncle I dont care. Stop cribbing now.
U.S - I am the training head. I can read people just by looking at them.
Me -<sarcastic smile>, You know what, uncle I am just 22 and even I can read people just by looking at them.
U.S - I can guarantee that you are jobless. Who goes to the office with a grown beard.
Me - ................................
(Belapur station)

As i deboard the train, following lines by Julian Barnes strike my head:

"One of the differences between youth and age: when we are young, we invent different futures for ourselves; when we are old, we invent different pasts for others."



We live in a country where 70% of population is said to be youth.Especially, we live in an age which saw transitions like a moving train, welcoming every newcomer and waving byes as the new newcomer replaces the old newcomer! We've seen the transition in education system. We've seen the rise of professional education. We've seen private institutions pop up like mushrooms in the rain. We've seen the millennium.

"We" here is the generation "Y". The generation born in 80s and 90s. But what about a generation prior to that.  Like us, they also have  experienced the transitions in day to day life, rather they have witnessed the transition from "Radio to DTH", whereas we were born in the age of chandrakanta and shaktimaan.

But, as observed(by me), we easily adapted ourselves to daily transitions at a good pace whereas the older generation found it hard to, thus creating a generation gap. This generation gap can create misunderstandings, voids, irritation, frustration etc.

I am neither a philosopher, nor a psychologist. I am just a jobless person who catches morning trains to enjoy the wind in his hair.

Khush Raho!

   

THE HARDEST THING IS TO BEGIN

I've never given much thought to blogging. Rather I've been considering it as another weapon of mass destruction in this internet savvy world. And here I am pushing myself deliberately towards this vicious circle of blogs and bloggers.

Hope the beginner's luck works here too!

Khush raho!