The loveliest music of all

For me, the most beautiful sound would be that of falling rain. I find it very soothing, relaxing. Just as rain washes the world, the sound of it washes away the grime and dirt in my mind, my heart, my soul. It says to me, “Stop worrying your little heart now. Lie down, read a book, or an old issue of Tinkle perhaps; make yourself a hot cup of coffee or Horlicks, and take a break from everything else, while I sing for you in the background.” I don’t put on music - not even ghazals - when it rains. I don’t want anything interfering with the sound of the rain.

So very often at night I have had some strange nightmare that in my sleep I struggled to get out of, but could not; feeling helpless, compelled to watch the uncomfortable scenes in front of my mind’s eye. And it started raining outside my window. The rain gently brought me out of the nightmare, without quite waking me up fully. Half awake, I say a small prayer of thanks to the sweet sound and fall asleep to better dreams. And the sound of the falling rain outside still in my ears.

Life is easy... too much so

Imagine a soft, cozy over-stuffed couch. You sink right into it. It feels so luxurious. You are watching TV, and have drinks and snacks at hand. It is so comfortable, you just don’t feel like getting up. You make a couple of half-hearted attempts, but your body refuses to co-operate. Eventually you might even fall asleep in it.

My cozy over-stuffed couch is my parents’ home. Life is getting a bit too comfortable. I tried getting off my ass once or twice. Half-hearted attempts. This time I am making sure I yank myself out of it and walk into the jungle out there.

I think it is dangerous to get complacent in life. Keep your blood hot and running. Take risks every now and then.

What is YOUR couch?

Make way for the king of our street

I had my first sitaphal of the season last week. It is my favourite fruit. It wasn’t very sweet but it was most amazingly fragrant. Almost like a frangipani flower. Do you which one is the frangipani? I am sure you have seen it. I don’t know what it is called in Hindi. I am assuming that you may not know what a frangipani is, because most of us know animals and fruits very well, but are quite bad at recognising flowers and birds. I wouldn’t be able to recognise a koel if I saw one, although there is one in our neighbourhood singing its head off every spring.

Speaking of animals, there is a local street dog in my mohalla whom I call Fatty because he is motu-motu compared to most street dogs. He is a study in calmness. He does not get into fights, does not run after cars, just walks majestically up and down the road or lies down on the footpath in a dignified way. Yesterday he was loafing about in the rain and was sneezing. Even the sneeze was so majestic. He puts into mind a king who has been unceremoniously dethroned, but does not let it affect his regality.

Even Amar would not have felt like kicking him. (It is a reflex action with Amar – he has to kick a dog if he sees one. I hate him for that. Otherwise I love him)

Ouch!

He not only breaks my heart, but proceeds to hammer away at it diligently till it turns to powder, taking care not to leave any piece unattended.

Memories

The carpenters are doing some woodwork in the office next door. I keep picking up those curls of wood that comes off when they slide that tool over the wood to even it out. I don’t know what that tool is called. I think a carpenter’s plane. I love the smell of freshly cut wood and I like to hold and examine a curl of sawn wood in my hands. It takes me back to my childhood. Not that I have any special memories of woodwork back then. Perhaps I used to play with wood shavings, I don’t know. But there is some vague picture in my mind of something packed in sawdust that used to come home when I was very little. I can’t remember what. I remember the smell of sawdust, but can’t get what was in the sawdust.

Other things I do remember are the sea salt seller, the cotton beater twanging his string as he walked on the street, the barber who used to come to attend to the men folk of the family (ours was a joint family then), the guy who got us rusk in big tin boxes, the dark room with its equipment where my father and uncles developed and printed their own photos, and the 60s style furniture, some of which we still have at our homes (all my uncles married and moved out one by one).

Oh, I got it! Slate pencils!!

On a misty, rainy day...

Coming from Pune by bus on a misty, rainy day. The bus went off the highway soon after it left Pune and passed through a colony of some kind, with bungalows and trees and peace. It was beautiful. I have never been through it ever again after that one time. It is almost like it was a mythical place I visited in my dreams. And like all mythical places, it was beautiful. The rain, the mist made it even more so.

Each time I go to or come from Pune, my heart gets restless around the time of the journey that I had seen the place the very first time. Nothing happens, I don’t see that place.

I have never made any enquiries or otherwise tried to find out what place it is. I don’t want the mystic romance I have come to associate with the place to disappear by hearing someone say that “it is a development by Pune Real Estate Wreckers Ltd. now also featuring five new 100 storey high towers with a clubhouse and artificial waterfall, 24 hours water and electricity (except Tuesdays), etc. etc…”

Will I ever come across that colony someday? Will I live there perchance?

To whomsoever it may concern...

A colleague is going to Australia for studies in Management. He wanted me to help him write a recommendation letter. I was more than happy to help him. I wrote:

To whomsoever it may concern,

Dheeraj Thakkar has had an excellent track record as a programmer. He has been under my employment for the past two years and in this period, company profits have doubled, solely due to his diligent and sincere work. His capability lies not only in writing programs for our clients, but also hacking into and screwing up the entire backend system of rival companies so that their dissatisfied clients come to us for business. Thanks to this resourceful and enterprising young man, we are nearly ready to take over the entire IT world.

Dheeraj Thakkar is an asset to any company, indeed to any country. Please don’t go by the photograph attached to this letter. He may look like a school kid, but he is legally an adult and is capable of doing everything an adult does. The ladies in my firm will endorse this. I have even heard rumours that the “Prince Dheeraj Fan Club” of which nearly every female of my firm (and quite a few males too for that matter) is a member, is planning to abduct Dheeraj as they cannot bear the thought of him leaving. Already a growing number of members of this club are performing various shows of their devotion to him like slashing their wrists, tattooing messages on unspeakable parts of their bodies, and so on. But he has promised to personally extract a promise from each of them that they will cause no trouble, so you need not worry about getting into any sticky situation once he is part of your esteemed University.

Dheeraj Thakkar is genuinely hardworking, intelligent, resourceful and bisexual. I was heart-broken when he let me know of his intention to join your University. But I do not wish to be selfish and keep him hidden in the dark recesses of my company. The world has a right to have a share of this bright and talented young man’s ass. May I especially recommend his skills in dot net and his ability to drink a peg each of tequila, whiskey, rum, vodka and sambuca in succession, and stand on one leg for a full minute afterwards.

Dheeraj Thakkar has no drawbacks or weaknesses I can think of. People may call him arrogant but I call it being assertive. His enemies may say that he is amazingly selfish and an opportunist, but I believe that they are just jealous of his success. In truth he has a magnetic personality and if people are happy to be crushed under his heel, why hold him responsible? He drinks milk thrice a day. Now what better proof of his blameless soul?

In conclusion, Dheeraj Thakkar is highly recommended for admission to your University. I promise that you will be at an advantage. If not as a bright student, then at least as a freak attraction in the campus.

Sincerely,
Bill Gates,
Microsoft Corporation

Wonder why he wasn't so happy with the letter... I had made sure there were no spelling or grammar errors. I even told him that the name and organization are very obviously fictitious and he should substitute them with the real thing. But that was apparently not what upset him. Wonder what else it was then.