So, I was coming back home from Chennai for Diwali. The train almost reached Hyderabad Deccan. I was alone in my compartment. My friends got off at Sec'bad. One of the ticket checking squad popped up and asked for my ticket. I gave a haughty smile and produced my ticket. "Your reservation is only till Sec'bad" he said. I jumped out of my seat. It was, indeed. The tickets were booked by my friends. And they have screwed me big time. I haven't ever travelled with a wait-listed ticket, let alone ticketless. Totally panicking, I tried to convince it "just slipped my mind"! He then nicely explained how he doesn't care a rat's rear and how I would have to pay as much as I paid from Chennai to Sec'bad. I checked my pocket. I had only Rs. 100, thanks to the pouring rain when I boarded the train and more thanks to my laziness. I then had to do something I thought I could ever do. Pursue him to keep the Rs. 100 note and call it even. It was as easy as I watched on TV9 (only more conscience pricking.. "Would I have chosen to pay the fine instead, if I had enough money?".. No clue!)
And that wasn't why it all got onto the blog. He then tried to start a friendly talk. In a "Iam-a-bribe-taking-bastard-but-let-me-pursue-you-to-think-Iam-a-thorough-gentleman" voice, "What do you do? Where are you from?". "A (brand new) Software Engineer (God! How much I hate calling myself that!). Iam from Hyderabad!".
It was then he said it. "Accha! But your Hindi is too "shuddh"!!"
Ah! What a slap in face! Delhi- what have you done to me!
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Abba Dabba Jabba..
Nevermind if you don't understand that. My apologies to the two people missing my posts. (One of them being, of course, I-Me-Myself!) Lot started to happen suddenly. A city that speaks a language I don't understand (completely yet.. Some say I speak good Tamizh.. "Manage pandringe" :P Only 10 sentences and 20 words in all possible permutations and combinations), a job that keeps me busy-doing-nothing, a climate that makes me want to rip my clothes off and get into a shower. New friends. New neighbours. Colleagues. A BOSS to report to! My cubicle. A VOIP phone. My own dustbin. OK.. I stop.
I miss the pleasure of blogging in leisure. (Not 'punny' enough?) It's just that after 5 days of staring at the computer, I would rather watch a movie or read a book or doze off than write some garbage. But the blogging germ doesn't get off my train of thoughts. I would subconsciously draft how I would describe the experience of getting stuck in Chennai's local train with men I doubt have never taken bath in their life or how I would describe the 'Idli' eating procedure religiously followed by almost all of the people I had happened to share a table with or the plight of getting into a public bus with a kg of beach sand in your underwear and so on.
Well, here I am to litter again.
Something has to be done to Chennai's climate. Sun is 20 light years closer, humidity always competing with the best of saunas . Nights are, thankfully, such a relief. And when it rains, I feel 10 all over again! :D
Food! Awesome! You should know where to eat and heaven is not quite far. After 2 years of potato-eating in Delhi, it feels great to know there are other vegetables to eat.
The city is so feel goody! I suddenly realise I am one of the few 'fair'est men in the city. I feel like the bimbo in "Fair and Lovely" ad.
One of the most intense intestine stirring moments happens almost everyday, when I go to restaurants. Watching people eat Idli... Simple. Imagine the soft, white, delicious Idli is your enemy's throat. Squeeze the living daylights out of it. Mash it to dead pulp. Pour a litre of sambar. Add all the chutneys served. Demand more of them if not satisfied. Knead them all like crazy. Make dollops of no-longer-an-Idli and toss them high in air a couple of times. Pop them into mouth. Slurp! Who cares if you've made the person across the table puke? :P
Temples!! Lots and lots of them. Haven't found my favourite yet.
Conversing. A complete English sentence would intimidate people easily. "Come-uh?". "Fast-uh?". Half my English vocabulary and grammar is "Fucked up already-uh!". BTW, making a sentence from a limited set of Tamizh words is fun!
Auto-wallahs! If there was any "Biggest-#%^&%-ever" contest, it goes to Chennai auto-wallahs collectively. Hands down! A 3 km ride would cost you Rs. 100? "Petrol rate saar!". Petrol, my ass! Does your auto drink a gallon per mile? Kingerfisher airline bastards charge at half your rate per km! My salary would be easily gone halfway through a trip round Chennai!
Beaches.. Nothing more soothing! But had a really bad experience. Had got into water reluctantly. From "only ankle deep" to "only till knees" to "a plunge feels amazing", had drenched myself completely for an hour, only to come out in soggy and suddenly heavy clothes. Walked a mile or so. Felt a sand paper stuck in my underwear. Realised it was just sand. (Wondered how the effect wasn't any different!) Couldn't find an auto-rickshaw. Got into a jam packed public bus. Sworn at the men that smelled like dead fish, for an hour. Realised it was actually me, the giant water-dripping-dressed-in-T-Shirt-whale, then. Got home sticky, with atleast a kilo of finest sand of the beach. Never got into beach water again!
On the whole, quite a nice place to live in. Until you start missing family, friends and the city that brought you up! A new phase of life. Lot more to experience. Lot more to explore. Wish it were all in my home. My hometown.
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