M.T. : The Misplaced-Terrestrial

If Steven Spielberg has any idea of making a movie like “M.T. : The Misplaced-Terrestrial”, I would do anything to dust it off of his head. Lives of M.T’s are more embarrassing than they are adventurous. Trust me.

The camera zooms in showing, first the universe->solar system->a revolving Earth-> a disfigured Google Earth screenshot-> South America-> Brazil-> Parana-> and finally a road sign that reads “Ben Vindo a Curitiba”. (Oh, well, if Spielberg had graduated from Karunya, I bet this would be the opening scene. The hundreds of presentations they show sort of hardcodes into your brain that any visual clip starts with the cosmic mystery)
And then clearing from a hazy image, you see the protagonist (which would be me), staring back at you – blank and petrified.

Yeah, right, that is how I felt when I landed in Sao Paulo. I had to take a domestic connection to Curitiba from there, and for a really long time I was wishing Portugal had colonized India instead of the British. Nothing here was in English. Nada! Even those airport folks who wore jackets inscribed “Need help?” replied something in Portuguese which I interpreted as “Sorry, we don’t speak English”.I felt like I was stranded. Guess anyone would have felt pretty much the same, specially when you were sent a couple of emails about the high crime-rate and a list of DON’T’S that went upto page 4.. To top it all, I was watching ‘Taken’ on the flight from Dubai to Sao Paulo. Crumbs!! I was wondering how I was ever going to figure out where the domestic terminal was, let alone the flight. Thank God for a Mumbaikar at the airport, who helped me with my luggage and the domestic terminal. Saude, Mr. Alphonso!

Finally in Curitiba! The family that lets me lodge is amazing. A godsend, honestly! But most of our conversations are gesture-talk. And it is more like I start laughing when they tell me about a dead grandmother thinking it was some joke about SpongeBob.

If you think that was awkward, welcome to the new awkward.

It was the first day at office and I’m so grateful for the folks and their friendliness. They invited me to lunch at a buffet place and there were around 12 of us. If it wasn’t for ‘Motorist-Namesake(MN)’, I wouldn’t have known I had to pick my own plate and my own food. MN introduced me to Sushi and man, it was the best Sushi I’d ever eaten in life! (Alright, that was the first Sushi I ever ate). Everything about Sushi was great except that I didn’t know how to use the chopsticks. I plopped a Sushi-unit(Pardon me, I know not what they call it) into Soy sauce and no sleight of chopsticks worked to retrieve it. Thank God no one noticed. Or were atleast courteous enough to pretend like they didn’t. I finally saved it from disintegrating in the sauce with a fork, on MN’s suggestion, for which I was very grateful as it came with no laughter attached. I ate the remainder of the food with fork and knife. Tchaued the chopsticks!

Partly feeling okay and mostly NOT OKAY AT ALL, I was on my way home, and huh! I need to travel an hour and a half, switching 3 buses that are loaded with “English – strictly prohibited” people. Come on, this is the first time I’m travelling back from work, the route is all new and I can’t even pronounce the place I need to get down to take the next bus. And despite it becoming pretty dark when my watch shows just 6:30 pm, I managed to reach the final boarding place and Jitters! Usually the buses are boarded at the front entrance and I religiously did so till I was shoved back and directed (read: pointed) to the mid-entrance of the bus. Seems at stations called “Terminals”, as the one I was standing in, so was the custom. Bah!
Already flushing pink(Okay, I know it doesn’t show on my face), I got inside to hear a group of women LOL and like the instincts of every human, native or misplaced, I thought they were laughing at me..and I went purple(which didn’t show either, duh!)

Next morning, I take the 7 o’clock bus sternly believing morning brings with it joy, and hoping that I find myself less misplaced – this is what I realize. When in school, say 2 of every 10 people are pretty and of course, you’re in the other 8, fervently wishing to be in the minority. In college, 5 of the 10 girls are pretty and cute and you ask God why He never answered your “with-faith-like-a-child” prayer from school. Well, God’s timing is perfect, ain’t it? Now, here in Brazil, He let me receive my answer.. I’m one of the two, and 8 out of 10 are gorgeous! Thanks, Lord!!

People drive on the right side and I so idiotically open the left door of cars forgetting it is the wheel side which immediately commands a “So, you gonna drive? .. Huahuahua..” from my colleagues..and a series of funny comments in Portuguese, and suddenly I’m thankful I don’t understand the language. And I was almost run over trying to cross the road as I carefully checked to the right and a truck vroomed past me from the left. “Oh darn!” I screamed to myself,” That’s the right side” ..and I heard myself – That is the right side! Yeah, perhaps it wasn’t all that thwarting, just that it would have cost me my life.
Well, these are some miseries that I faced, as a fairly level-headed independent major. Guess it would take some more time till I fit in.. Until then, Me. T. , The misplaced terrestrial will have to survive the weird and wonderful ways of the nova lugar(new land, in Portuguese.. ;) ).

His.. Faithfully or however.

You really might want to read this. Thanks to BeyondMadness’ grandpa, who had preserved this book – “Sermons in Solitary Confinement” by Richard Wurmbrand. You might have heard about, read about / of him, the pastor who started the Voice of the Martyrs.
I chanced to read just a few sermons from the book and I need say, they were really deep.
This, in the preface, almost cut right through. Go ahead.

Accept your thoughts of despair and of faith, your doubts and their solution, your moments of madness and their passing away. Allow it all to happen to you. You might imagine that you are thinking. In fact, you are being thought. You may be an experiment for angels. You may be the object of a bet between God and satan, like Job. Be determined only to cling to God, even if He slays you, even if He slays your faith. If you lose your faith, then remain faithlessly His.
If all the fruits of the spirit disappear, and you remain a barren tree with only leaves, remember that leaves also have a purpose. Under their shadow, the fruitful ones may rest in the embrace of their divine lover. Leaves are used by the bride to make a garland for her beloved. Leaves are changed into healing medicines. And even when the leaves become yellow and fall withered to the ground, they can form a beautiful carpet on which He will walk toward those who, unlike you, have remained faithful to the end.

The Pond Frog?

Hmmm..I was busy exfoliating my head off of real and relevant issues for the last two months so I could dwell uninterrupted on non-existent, useless debris. Even now, there are pointless stuff floating inside my cranium and guess I’m gonna junk it out the blogger way!
Last week, I happened to spend an evening with Surrender, an acquaintance, now in eighth grade. And I know for sure, if I were in my 8th grade now, she’s never gonna be friends with me. It was almost after a year that I was meeting her and she hadn’t changed much. Last year, when I met her, She was devotedly engrossed in her quest of unearthing all possible reviews on The High School Musical movies from the internet knowledge reserve. This time, it was déjà-vu. Well, almost, except that she was now lookin up Twilight – All genre: Movie, Bloopers, Parody, and Lady Gaga, and a page solely attributed to dissect Robert Pattinson and his private life, Dress-me-up Barbie and some five more tabs.
I tried talking to her about her school, friends and stuff and all that I managed to get from her side was a description of some pool party that she’s been to. There wasn’t much to natter coz there wasn’t anything at all. Anything outside the internet and blingy birthday parties was apparently dull and boring.
I just sat there wishing I had all this cutting-edge frivolity when I was a kid. Reflecting on my school era , Man! My bygone lifetime seemed to suck! You can call it a shame if you want but I got my email ID only when I was in ninth grade..and matter-of-fact, it was accidental. Moreover, it had no real use till I got into college. I still remember the night that I spent sleepless because of the uncontrollable excitement I was filled with from seeing one of the most incredible things on Earth – Yahoo Greetings! God, what an idiot!
Sometimes I wonder whether life would be any different if I had been in some other school, lived somewhere else with resources available at want.. If I had had projects to work on instead of having to write “Dictation words” ten times for homework. If I had had a cool teacher with who I could discuss the Bermuda Triangle instead of having to listen to long winded complaints of her arthritis and the daughter-in-law. If I hadn’t have to wait till next Christmas or Easter to buy a couple of Archie comics at a raddiwalla’s, fulfilling my greatest obligation as a patron.. If.. If.. If.. Would it?
Was I then the frog in the small pond that never knew the ways of the stream or the town? I don’t know. But, even so, I don’t think I carry regrets. My time as a kid was fun in its own way.. So what if I didn’t get to go to pool parties? I enjoyed carrying home water pots from across the street. (A tip: Carrying it on your shoulder is more convenient, trust me. I never got the hip-way hang!) I climbed hills barefoot, I helped burn dead snakes, I’ve had four years of experience, being squeezed and squelched in crowded buses on the way to school and back, I ran around with goats, got stamped a couple of times by calves, I was even taught the clandestine knack of holding the ‘poonthudappam’! .. Man, I can think of a truckload of studd things!! Wow!
Guess, I have had more fun as a kid than Surrender could ever imagine.. and umm..No, I’m not trading it.. Not even for a free-for-lifetime broadband internet service. .

Mera Bharat Mahan

Sigh. A deep breath after the arduous elections. Do I sound too much like I was out there organizing all the proceedings? Sorry for over-reacting. But Hey, I was religiously following them. All the pre-poll analyses, the talk shows, surveys and stats. I don’t know why but I felt very much like the nation was about to make a crucial decision that would change my entire life! It was kind of addictive, following the election assay. And I should admit, I felt sweet relief wash over after the results were out. Mera Bharat Mahan!

I know it is too late to be writing about all this now, but watching the first round of swearing-in stirred up many thoughts that once hammered my head and gradually rested in peace. Some kind of pride swelled up inside my chest, watching the ceremony. The members who will make up the cabinet, the band, the anthem, the feel of administration and governance – I wanted to be there, watch it straight as it happens.

Drifting away in the solemnity of the Rashtrapathi bhavan, I remembered a couple of incidents that made me feel kinda resentful on the inside. Some incidents that happened sometime back..Gestures made by some “icons”, upto who we are influenced to look for things like choosing a soft drink brand, eating eggs, trying hair gel, getting cellular connections, what not ?
But do these “stars” fail to realize that the influence carries even outside the television screen?

When the Padma Shri awards were given away this year, Pity Bajra-Boy, Captain couldn’t make it to the ceremony ‘coz they had other commitments. A ceremony that perhaps they thought the President, the Prime Minister and other governors were too jobless to attend? Isn’t it an honor that most citizens would kill for? Adorable!

And yeah, even during the elections. Here is the government, trying to make it dawn on the people that voting is the right and responsibility of every citizen and there are our role-models sitting in the dug outs busily engrossed in cheering their teammates in South Africa..and Kayaking and Fishing. Wow!!

I really did not know what to think. It is kind of hard but I was just hoping people we look up to spend some time using their brains for better purposes like thinking and act a bit more responsible. Sigh. A deep breath again.

It all mattered.

Hiya! It's been some real long. Hey, No.. Elections / IPL didn't send me into oblivion. Had some stuff happening in my own world - Vacating the hostel, last minute adieus, a hundred hugs (seriously), blah.blah.blah.

Bidding goodbye to the place that I was taught to call my "Second Home" for the last four years wasn't all that dramatic for me. I know I am going to miss some people who taught me so much in life. Some things that made life so exciting. Some incidents that shaped me into what I am now, for better or for worse. But there's really no drama in there.

Alright, I just wanted to thank God first of everything for making it all happen. And thanks to all you guys who really changed a lot about my ownself, my perspectives, my stupidity. I owe you all big time. The blogosphere would not contain if I start off with who's done what. So, Here goes just naming names and pouring out all my gratitude!!

The morning assemblies, The choir, The PC's, The uncensored Hostel fun, The beautiful mountains, weather and the rainbows - For making me rediscover myself.

Paapa, Devaraagam, Calligraphy, AppleRum, Paniyaaram, Bajji, Stepmom, Remix, TutiGirl, Jakkamma, Flowerbed, Avril Wannabe, BabuBoy, SolaiMalar, Mottai, Junior Operator, Carrot Blender, BusBaas, Bin*Bin - For making every bit of my college span total fun.

Mostafa, SRA, The Lamp, PuppyDog, Affleck, VeetuSoru, Gundu, Altitude, Sottai, RSR, No23, Quilon, Bigatha, Hope-Giver, Mani Enna?, Ms.Jackie Chan, Blouse-Stealer, Wings, Piglet, DaVinci, Post-Jan. - For all that you've done, been.


Pink Panther - For shoving some sense into my head everytime I become cranky. For all the fun. For all the secrets.

The Tribe - For the music. For the pranks. For being the sweetest and the stupidest brother ever. You sure can make make me laugh.

Mother Goose - For being the Father-Figure, the Mother-Figure, My Warden, My Boss. I would've lost myself somewhere if you hadn't been there. Honest.

Beyond Madness - For being my Jonathan. Or Perhaps, I am Jonathan, King David. Simply, For a million reasons.

What-Do-I-Name-You? - For the hours, the minutes, the seconds. For Everything. You chaged my life forever.

The Godsend!

It was a monotonous week - the same ritual comprising of three phases: Walk to the morning assembly, Go to the department to mark attendance, Crawl back to the hostel and curl up in bed. I was already tiring from this not-much-to-do routine. It made my brain duller and my thoughts sulkier. I couldn't do anything to keep my energy levels from surging to unknown depths. Somebody, Abolish boredom!

Thanks to BeyondMadness's godsend relatives. They had come down to beat the heat in Covai Coutralam and had pulled over to meet BM, donate charitable amounts of chips and extend a much awaited invitation to join them. For courtesy's sake or whatever, we were too quick to nod yes, and then hurried to FoodZone to buy some food packets.

We then harnessed our efforts to wake Bigatha up from her hibernation and got her also into the cab. Off we sneaked toward the Waterfall. O What joy! The sound of monotony shattering!

There were two families and the three of us. We hiked on, stopping at times, to absorb the mystic beauty of nature. I've been there twice before. But each time seemed as beautiful as ever. And this time, it felt even more refreshing because just a few hours back and ages past from there, I was nibbling a very low morale.
We walked and walked, listening to many different sounds in varying decibels. It was a very, very nice feeling - Being surrounded by trees and birds and insects, all forgetting uneventful courses of life and happily swaying or chirping the moment away.

The sound of water flowing ('Gushing' would be exaggerating) down the rocks was spirit-lifting. It reminded me of some characteristic of God but I couldn't figure out which. I was just feeling so overwhelmed for reasons I didn't know. Waters really do something magical, don't they?

BeyondMadness, Bigatha and I found ourselves totally drenched, head to toe, enjoying every drop of water falling on us. It seemed to wash all the dreary feelings off me. After almost 40 minutes of ceaseless fun in the water, we climbed up the rock just above to bask for sometime. It was all nice till people standing below moved over and shot peculiar looks at us. I was wondering if our beauty actually did draw that much attention. Not until some woman asked Bigatha and BeyondMadness to shift aside coz they were blocking the flow. Pity, the people below only saw drops trickling where once was fast falling waters! All hail Biggy and BM. They are powerful enough to change the course of water.Not wanting to embarrass ourselves further, we slid down and left for lunch.

We found a good place nearby and settled with 'Veetu Saapadu' and FoodZone's exclusive red-dyed Chilly Parothas. We lazed there for sometime and chanced to see a big crab. I didn't know crabs thrived in falling waters till then. We started off back, heading toward yet another fortnight of habitual unexcitement, Bigatha and myself relishing sourmangaas lathered in salt and chilly powder... Climbing slowly down the mountain, carrying along memories of serenity and enchantment.

Grandmoms and Shoes.

I was of the idea that politics was not this much a kindergarten show. Interesting, Confusing, Disturbing, Dirty, Trying, Hopeless have been some of the adjectives that I've known to precede the word 'Politics', but definitely not 'stupidly annoying'. Atleast not until recently.

Let's talk about some shoes. From when on did 'Soling' become famous? Yeah, Soling as in the sole of a shoe. As far as I know (and I haven't done researches on it yet), The first Political public display of Disaffection, you might say, that became so popular was when that Iraqi Journalist, Muntadar al-Zaidi, flung his shoe at the then US President, George W. Bush during some conference.

Here's news for Indians. Do you seriously think that when parties try to implement Cyber Election Campaigning strategies like they did in the US, there wouldn't be some individual who would try to implement 'Soling'?
Couple of weeks back, a journalist hurled a shoe at Home minister P. Chidambaram, when he was justifying the Tytler issue. And the newest member of the Shoe-Hit community is BJP's Presidential Candidate L.K. Advani. And this time, it was slightly embarassing because it was a party member who soled the Ex-Deputy Prime Minister.
So, what is all this? Some sort of fun game, like 'Who hurls the shoe farthest?' or worse still, 'Which official gets hit the maximum number of times?'. Man, This is just so disgusting.
And just because shoe-throwing was not elegant enough, there's teasing and mockery to go alongwith. Modi calling the Congress an Old Lady, BSP's Akhilesh Das calling Nafisa Ali a grandma, Will this ever stop? Or will these supposed rulers of the country shrink to degenerate forms and start calling each other 'Fatso', 'Shorty', 'Baldy'?

Don't things mature with age? Or has some kind of unknown biological phenomenon erupted inside the heads of homo sapiens without anybody knowing it? Or is it just a syndrome that affects people in politics and to an extent, journalists? And why am I even bothered!!

Somebody, answer me. Or teach those bunch of people some sense.