Wishing you a Happy Diwali.

ఈ దీపావళి మీ ఇంట ఆనంద కాంతులు వెదజల్లాలని ఆసిస్తూ - మీకు నా దీపావళి శుభాకాంక్షలు

A Day.....In Noida.

On that Day....

I was negotiating my way thru the tracks taken by many shoppers,
after an intense yet important meeting with a Black metallic Box
that not just computes but apprises you of your near-past. Those
are the roads taken by many in want of goods for less money. The
place is Karol Bagh Bazaar, New Delhi. Though I was empty handed,
I bought one, at a price half of its marked price, a pair of Woollen
Gloves, that now tenderly draped my palms giving the needed
warmth.

I was also trying to know from PCR, My Team Mate(MTM- he is like
an ATM for me) ,abt the cost of the dolls he bought for his cute
nephews. As the dusk nearing and the bright orange light giving the
extra Photo-grey to my lens, we stopped at a deserted Bus-stop. So
immersed we were in the light-(he)arted-banter, on the Saint like
Job where you are paid for not using your mind, that we missed a
more talented member of the bovine family competing to know
"How to go to The Destination??".The bovine won the contest and it
was out-of-sight in just 15 mins as we are still stagnated. But then
I have nothing to do with the Cows and Goats, not even the inferiority
nor the superiority complex being compared with it. It won b'coz it
need'nt have a "Bas" to catch to reach its "Destination".
A Self-satisfactory answer, isnt it??

Then as we are back to the "Present" from the "Future", and also
backto the senses of Delhi Roadways we are atleast intelligent enuff
to find that we need to wait at the opposite bus-stop. The Bloody
Culprit of this situation is the introvertic sense of me, not-enquiring
with any pedestrian. Gratefully and Foolishly we cross the road to
park ourselves beside the waiting-crowd. All my life i m waiting for
something and this is no exception.

Soon a smart green-white bus draws in and I gleefully board on it.
As my Road-sweeping jeans gets itself hooked to the metal foot-board,
I spent some effort to latch it and make it mine. This resulted in a tear
at the lower end, making it look much more sexy and leaving me with
a grin. Seconds later my mobility came to a standstill...searching for
the next empty-seat. Almost simultaneously the bus starts and I fall,
promptly, on a passenger's shoulder, by my side. I try to look at her
and express my regret, however, her expression is too forbidding. The
chirpy/ ever-smiling / never-a-stranger conductor came, as i got the
tickets.."Bhayya, Do Ticket, Sector 61" sparingly using the unspoken
language.

Stepping into Jeans' shoes and may be wearing its Mind, I, Levi
Strauss Jeans, feel that the only disgusting/monstrous feature that
carries the black patch on my sexier design/frame is the ONE inside me.
Jumping back into my mind, Its me now, honey, I really feel sorry for
my Jeans and I knew ' I am the ' culprit, for its shady look, for not
washing it since a month and making it a uniform for all the weekends.
But then I find it good / cooool like that. One more answer surrogating
my Laziness...Isnt It??

At last I find a seat vacated by an elderly as if for me, the only standing
living-thing meeting the floor and ceiling of the bus. I took it with a
sigh of relief and utter joy to be seated not worrying abt the
"no leg-room". Making myself 'comfortable' and leaning on the smoky
glass, I peeped, just to find nothing in the darkness. This private Bus,
doesnt take the DNExpressway and so covers almost twice the shorted
distance in thrice the time piercing through the Fog.

I am lost again, this time in the 'Past', where I used to be a ' king'
watching the movies with legs reaching my height, almost sleeping,
luxuriously. Now, I feel the dearth of pride in calling myself an IT
profesional who depends on everything and is nothing when compared
to a maid. The Maid may be less educated but NOT BONDED.

Just at that time the middle aged typical employee beside me left to
the Foot-board as his Destination drew near. This time the seat is
taken by the 'Conductor'. I cant forget this guy, even now. He is so
chirpy and jaunty that he can make any IT guy in Noida... feel shy.
In his own haryanvi hindi he spoke and I kept listening or seemingly
listening. Knowing the smell of Alcohol, I asked him why he is drunk
on job. "..Bas Thodaasaah Daaru .... " ...he nodded. and showed two
more bottles in his pockets, which he has reserved for the night.

At the next stop the place of the dutiful jaunty conductor bside me is
filled by an aunty. In North, women doesnt have prob sharing the seat
with men, unlike South as a fren of mine put it.After two stops and
some comfort I lost this perpendicular position to my conscience when
it had pushed me to give the seat to a lady with a bawling six-mth-old
baby. Time passed steadily as I leaned on the pole beside for few more
mins enuff to hear from the crew that the last stop is "Baarah Baayis"
(12-22) instead of Sector 53 as this is the last trip. At the stop we got
down after knowing from them, the crew, that Sector 61 (Shoprix Mall)
is near and walkable. Even then, we thought of taking a rickshaw, but
the real prob started. Unfortunately, No rickshaw-puller nearby
understood the word "Sixty one" and I forgot the word "Ik Satt".
I was just searching my brain to its core and in a few mins and after
few rickshaws found the word part by part under the Tongue.

The Fateful day ended as I reached the silent, sleeping ,Guest house
just to find it locked from inside. After some knocks..sorry..
Dhaba..Dhaba..s.. I m able to wake up Rajesh, the Finance-dept guy,
who shared the flat with us. After dinner as usual we sat at the TV
and the Remote Control. After some time I got another pillow to make
my view more comfortable at the TV and coiled up cozily, myself in
the hollow created in the Razaai (Blanket) to end a memorable day,
the day I finished my first certification.

Sleeeping Diagonally on a cozy Cot ( height prob ), On That Day.....