At the bus-stop!

"I dint say that!"
I  heard a male voice say that.
"I am sure I dint say that!"
I did,I did hear a male voice say that.
For the past 15 years, there are just 2-3 voices for which I instantly fell. I like the diction generally but sometimes it is just the sound. Deep and perfectly masculine. This voice was
actually both. So count++.
I was looking away from that male to look disinterested but I could hear all that he spoke.
"Did I ask you?"
"Then do not tell me all this"
I knew I was eavesdropping but couldn't stop myself.
"Sudha..please.."
Should be his girlfriend/ wife.
"Ok..if you want to.."
Certainly it must be his girlfriend. If it was his wife, he would have just asked her to chuck it. Men (married/engaged to someone), in general, are mean to girls who talk a lot. Guys aren't. Why because it is hard to get  to a girl. Specially with today's male-female ratio, it is equivalent to securing a seat in top B-schools. Cut-throat competition, aftermath of securing one is costly, living with one is again a struggle but in the end, his life is settled.  Having known all this, who would risk to let his girl go just for his ego?
"Tell me in detail then."
This is how a perfect guy should be. If his girl wants to speak, he should let her speak till her mouth hurts. Not being interested in random talks or cutting her short saying he has work or faking another call- all this is not good.
"Ok?"
"Aah..ok."
He was also acknowledging each sentence of hers.
"That's nice"
"Relax. Keep your cool when such things happen."
"Cool. Right thing!"
He was showering all good words when she was complaining about something. What a gentleman! I was incidentally looking at MB's Businessman poster then. Suddenly, I felt may be he too looked as awesome as MB. I casually turned to look at his face, unfortunately he turned away from me right at that moment. I dint care and started looking at the old hoarding again.
"Did they really mean it?"
"What shall we do then?"
May be the girl told her parents about their relationship and they were not happy about it.
"I know but what shall we do?"
"Ok fine. Let us meet and talk. You're anyways coming to the bus-stop, right?"
"Yeah..bye" he cut the call.
It is unethical to listen to others' phone conservations without their notice, I know that. But I was not bothered at all. If the irresistible voice was one reason, the topic of the talk was the main one. The anxiety in me started slowly rising till that one moment he asked her to come and meet him.After that, it instantly shot up. Mr.Super-voice was silent. May be he was thinking about how to convince her parents. Or may be he wants to cool her down first by treating her or buying her a chocolate.

I suddenly felt the place was as silent as a grave. Not because there were no vehicles around and not because they weren't honking (which is impossible to happen in Hyderabad). If Sudha's parents agree, she can spend rest of her life just listening to him, I thought to myself. Again, merely listening to all that men say isn't a trait of today's women. May be she can have him read newspaper or novels for her.

Suddenly I heard his phone ring.
"Hello Sudha"
"Yeah at the bus-stop."
She must have come. I dint want to see how they both look together because I was happy with just the audio.
"Where are you?"
"Ok, I see you."
I heard his voice fade away and turned back to see Sudha come. Sudha or sudhakar came to meet him. Both of them talked for sometime and happily boarded Gitam's engineering college bus. The bus sped away from the place leaving me behind with a wide smile and a tale to tell!

Yappie budday!

“Akka” I heard a loud shout when I was swiftly walking  towards home. I dint bother to reply because I was thinking who would call me akka when the world is used to an other word to address any girl who is past teenage. No points for guessing the word. “Akkaaaaaa”  this time the shout was much louder. I turned in that direction and saw a little girl who looked as if some doll had come to life. She was standing in her verandah and was dressed in a pattu skirt and pattu blouse. “ivvala naa happy birthday” she shyly said. I was amused. Not at the cliché “happy birthday”. Birthday is supposed to be preceded by happy for all telugu kids. If you say just birthday, the whole meaning is lost for them. I wanted to shout back “happy birthday” but I simply gestured my best wishes. Then, in a filmy way, my master mind slipped into memories of my birthdays. Someone  promptly started rotating a mosquito coil in this scene.

An ideal birthday has to be like this:

• If you ask me, both the birthday and the day before are anticipated. The day before birthday is special because the festive mood starts slowly setting in. Friends would repeatedly ask about the birthday dress, chocolates and party details.


• Father would come home early and take his little girl for shopping. Mother, like a waiter in Shankar Vilas/Gayatri Bhavan, would take down the list for next day’s party. The heroine would be equally busy.  Packing chocolates in a big round bottomed box, cajoling mummy for Rs.50-100 so that she can buy something in the school canteen and thus making her sibling jealous of her.


• Next day is real fun.  The birthday girl puts on the dress and will admire herself for such a pretty one.  This is one day she wishes was not a school holiday or some exam day.


• She stands in the morning prayer proud and confident as numerous eyes check her out. The class would sing “happy birthday to you ,many boyfriends to you” and she would coyly smile at the song.  She distributes the chocolates and invites her dear ones for the evening party.

PS: Remember to say something good about her and her dress, the birthday girl is really fishing for a compliment when she is talking to you.

• In the evening party, the drawing-room in her house would be decorated with balloons and party papers. Cake is ready and luring. Numbered candles are lit and the routine follows. Remember to take a gift wrapped in colored paper for the birthday girl. Your Rs.500 in an envelope wouldn’t count as much as the Rs.50 pencil box wrapped in teddy’s gift paper would do.


• People disperse and the birthday girl will sit unwrapping the gifts till late night. Ask her the next morning, she'd  say she got X pencil boxes, X-1 pen sets and X-2 board games as gifts.


•  Next day, she is no longer ‘the birthday girl’ and hence no longer special. Her boring school uniform is back and so is she singing “happy birthday to you” for some one else. She sadly looks at the calender wishing every year had just two days.

Here I am wishing every year had just two days and I wouldn’t age every year. The terrible fact that I was born before this millennium began is making me feel I belong to stone age. Jokes apart, I have decided the little girl in me wouldn’t grow at all. Let her tummy grow, I will pamper her with golgappas and pastas. Let her like zaree saris and not kurti-jeans like she used to. I will buy her whatever she wants.  In short, the princess in me shall remain royal like ever despite of changing seasons.

PS: All ARR fans will like changing seasons. So do I :)

Next post would be Two-to-Tango. Nothing related to IIIT. I promise :)

At cinemas

Being an ardent lover of films, I am often seen standing in the ticket queue outside cinemas , waiting for the balance due at the popcorn counter inside the hall or rushing to the screen not to miss the title credits. Be whatever theatre, 70MM screen in our locality or some multiplex , these sets of people have never missed my attention inside the hall.

I don’t care when your film starts:  Such people solicit their gracious presence only after if it is at least half-n-hour past the start of  film. I understand not everybody is so particular about the reel on family planning or INC like me and moreover it is not a weekly status meeting in a software office for everybody to be on time. But dear audience, because you’re already late, it is your courtesy  to quietly settle down in your allotted seats and not disturb the poor chaps who are deeply engrossed in the movie by stamping their foot and spilling your popcorn/ sweetcorn/ whatever on them. To err is human , I understand. But then to apologize is divine these days.

Booo, I missed it:  Thanks to the wonderful accent and impeccable acting skills of our actors, sometimes  we cannot understand what is happening onscreen. People in this set nudge their neighbors and ask them to explain the script/humor from the point they missed. Nothing wrong in being curious, but not at the cost of someone’s comfort. Imagine how bad it would be when you’re enjoying your favorite song on screen you hear some loud caws from behind.

Look at my new smartphone:  Smart phone is something which we can surely show off. But not inside the theatre after the film has begun. The person sitting in your front holds his iphone in the air killing apps or dismissing reminders. Thu! Imagine a romantic scene in progress and you hear a crackling ringtone that nearly makes you jump off your seat. I had such experience one day. There was a scene in which one of the supporting characters died and a ringtone which meant “this was due for long” started playing promptly.  The owner dint silence the call. Instead, after letting it ring for sometime he answered the call and started talking to someone staying overseas. Yeah, I could easily make that out from the volume in which he was speaking.  He talked about the CBI raids on Jagan, chances of Telangana over united AP and how his little daughter kicked his mother-in-law which he wanted to do.

‘Home theatre’:   A cinema is not a home theatre. It is meant for use by 200-300people. People who are presumably tall might have a problem resting their legs on ground. Hence as soon as the slide “Do not put your legs on the front seat” is shown, they’re reminded of their duty. You want to sip your Pepsi but instead you see a dirty boot on your arm-rest which has already kicked your glass off it. Some people rest their heads on their hands objecting the screen from view. All you get to see is the swanky watch, trendy bracelet and a small sneak-peek for you in between the hands. You can do your favorite neck exercise to peek.

Baby don’t cry: Everybody loves babies. So do I. But not cry babies and touch-me-nots. Also, I also have lost respect for parents who ignore their babies’ cries and shouts.  Is not their duty to at least go out with the baby and come back after he/she stops crying? Tackling babies is difficult sometimes (ask my parents), so dismissing this. Some kids(not babies) are real menace. They repeat dialogues and sing songs while their parents proudly keep watching and others give them nasty looks. I have turned a monster for such kids these days. I made it a point not to calmly bear the noise but to at least politely ask the kids to be silent.

That’s it for now. If you want to say “as if you never did this earlier” to the above-  I can only say this: I almost barge into the hall when the cleaning staff come out,  I never talk when the film is on run because I do this work(only this) with utmost concentration, my smartphone was outsmarted long time ago, I’m not that tall ( sad no, I know ) and I don’t have babies/kids.

Auto madam!

Having gone to school with 9 members in a 4 seater auto-rickshaw(Auto in short) for 4 years, I know what a typical Auto is like. It has three wheels and a black leather cover atop its chassis. Modern autos have a button whereas our school auto had a hand lever which had to be pulled, cussed at and pulled again to get the engine started. Some autos have a small wooden board of width 0.4-0.9cm in addition to the cushioned seat. People like me can barely put their hands on it, it is so thin. The autos also have a leather sheet hung on the sides which drivers claim will shade the passengers from rain. In fact it neatly creates a way for rain water to come inside the auto and the passengers are drenched in water mixed with dust on the sheets which were cleaned at the time of India's independence. Almost every auto has film stars' pictures on the inner sides with their names or funny quotations. The side view mirrors in most of the autos have a sensuous lips symbol on them. And the most priced possession of Hyderabadi autos is a stereo player which plays the awesome-st songs ever composed. With those high-fidelity speakers and the super-increased tempo thanks to the intelligent player, the songs will surely bring a change in your mood. I bet.

One bad day, I had to take an auto to some place X in Hyderabad. I could have taken a city bus  but then I should know how to cling to a bus in motion by means of a rod.  Sadly I don't. So I walked out of our office and saw someone heading towards me with his hand pointing to me. Did I do something wrong? Then I heard his shout-"Auto madam". The term 'Auto madam' sounded funny. It didn't sound as 'Auto? Madam' to me. It sounded as 'Auto madam'. It was funny and misleading just like Aishwarya Rai singing 'Auto auto wada..nuvvu automatic wada..' in Robot. As I am very smart, I understood what he meant and told him my destination with some landmarks.
He: Bait (Sit in Hindi)
Me (thinking - How do Madam and "Bait" go together? Is it not "Baitiye"?)
Me: (Pointing to an electronic device so new that it can be put up in Industrial fair as an exhibit)Is this meter working?
He: Meter?
(He gave me a nasty look as if I had asked him to give away his salary. Then he started speeding from that place with a nod.)
Me: Okay bhaiyya, How much do you want? (I had no other choice!)
He: You tell me madam.
Me (thinking - Why does he really want to know?)150
He: Give 250. Come sit.
Me: 250 is too much.
He: Madam, I have to come back alone.
Me (thinking - Did I say Mars/Saturn instead of X?)
Then I lectured  him about the latest report of census taken in X, how likely it is for him to get another passenger from that area and made him agree to come for Rs.240. I know I will not and cannot become rich by saving that Rs.10. It is a matter of prestige and victory of good over evil.

Hyderabadi auto drivers are very talented and unmatched. Our auto traveled with the speed of light. It managed to get into any gap in between two vehicles however small it was. The driver kept me entertained with popular songs like pakistani ghazals and remix of Raja's 'jabilli kosam 'in some alien language. He noticed that I was not able to talk over phone and increased the volume so that I will have a reason to hang up. How understanding he was! He made sure he hit at least one pedestrian on road and made me learn one more cuss word. After reaching the landmark, I made him stop the auto just a few feet from there. He charged Rs.10 for that extra distance, took Rs.250 which he first quoted  and fled from that place in triumph. He thus taught me a lesson not to be lazy - I should have been active and should have walked to my place from that landmark.

I turned back with red face only to see him bargaining with someone and they immediately gave in. Smart people know it is no use bargaining with auto drivers. I am having second thoughts about my profession now. Why not buy an auto-rickshaw for myself and sit outside a SW office after the company shuttles leave?

My school

I never wrote any essay titled "My-School" in my school days. Even if I had to, I used to leave it in the 'choice' section which is a savior to every student. The reason why I never attempted to write about my school was I was never so passionate about it. S.F.S was just another school which I joined soon after we moved to Visakhapatnam.

First thing I dint like about S.F.S was that there were only 2-3 girls shorter than me in our class. I was(am) terribly short and hence, I always stood first when our class lined up for assembly sessions. In our section, there was only one girl shorter than me and to my luck, she always used to come late or fall ill. I just hated to stand first during those sessions. It is a terrible job because you cannot fake singing the school song or you cannot put your hand down while taking pledge. The biggest dearth is that there is no one standing in front for you to hit while taking the one-arm distance.

Secondly, I completely feared the physical training and drill sessions. We had this class on every Friday and believe it or not, almost every Friday that year either was a public holiday or it rained so heavily that the ground was all damp. If at all we could step out of our classrooms, we used to have a warmup session which was compulsory to play sports. By the time we could lay our hands on a ball after that tiring activity, the bell used to ring. Running thrice around the big football ground was called as warm-up. How mean, no? In my opinion, It is enough to burn all the calories we had taken in right from our first meal in life. While our class boys finished three rounds sincerely, I used to drag myself to complete one and calmly join them as if I had run three times. All my pranks were generally unnoticed. In one funny incident, I lied to my instructor that I had undergone appendicitis operation and hence cannot perform the drill. He asked me which side of my stomach was paining and I was caught!

Third reason- I never enjoyed the attention I got at school. Not the teachers' but attention from the peers. Teasing and bugging someone is so much fun! I cannot do it now even if I want to. At school, I never enjoyed it. My class boys always used to tease me for being short. I used to retort many times and sometimes I used to keep cool. On the whole, I was never a good sport. I often complained to my mother and friends about that. At that time, I was really choosy about best friends and just friends. And it used to show in my attitude that I was being choosy. One day I terribly made fun of a good friend just to save my skin from others. She was shocked at my odd behavior and was close to tears. Of course I later apologized to her. I feel so guilty whenever I am reminded of the shameful thing I did to her.

What I genuinely like about my school are the teachers. One teacher whom I love the most was Mrs. Preethi Thomas who looked as beautiful as Trisha in Saamy, NMNT and Junior horlicks ad film. She taught Biology and English for about 2 years and her way of teaching was also very good. She was also impartial in giving points to the houses though she headed a house-We girls used to consider this as her virtue. Mrs. Mahalakshmi was my another favorite who taught us English. I simply loved the way she used to speak- very composed speech. She asked us never to disrespect people elder to us whoever they might be. I still heed her words. I also loved Mrs.Jacintha's classes. She taught us Physics and her classes were full of life. Some pupils not so attentive in class used to ask her what is Newton's second law soon after she finished explaining "every action has an equal and opposite reaction". She used to give a priceless expression and say:

"Did you just ask a 'what' question?"
Pupil: Yes

J: O piggidy lot, put your head in a dirty pot.

Pupil (Smiling): Miss, why?

J: Because you are so low and sky is so high.

Pupil: No miss, but how is action equal to reaction?

J: Did you just ask a 'how' question?

Pupil (expecting a rhyme already, smiling): Yes

J: By the kick of the cow!

In another exam, we were asked to list the differences between strong and weak acids. One Aamir Khan in our class wrote it in simple words: A strong acid is strong and a weak acid is weak. Funniest part is that he asked her to consider giving atleast 0.5 mark for that so that he can pass.

The reason this post came now is that last week I was at school to just see how much it has changed over 8 years. Nothing changed except our school uniform and our Father (Principal-in-charge). The watchman Samuel welcomed me with a very big hi and gently let me in. Our Hindi teacher came out of her class and greeted me. She was happy that I am a software engineer. I was tempted to tell her every three out of five engineering graduates are SEs now and there is nothing great about it. As if she doesn't know it! As I walked towards the staff room, Our maths teacher called me by my name and enquired about me. She even recollected that I gave her my mother's text book for her PG examinations. I was moved. As I walked past the corridors where we used to do water-fights and library where we used to pose with big English novels, I met Mrs. Jacintha. She also did not change. She was sitting in the same old physics laboratory correcting physics records. After a nostalgic chat with her, I met some other teachers who instantly recognized me. I was very happy! I took some pictures in the main quadrangle where we used to ballot for school captain and vice-captain. I looked around and saw Mrs.Jacintha's old R.no 2828 Ambassador car in which she used to come. Then place where my school auto used to wait for me. Then place where we used to eat lunch. Then Samuel walked us till the main gate and wished me the best. I walked out of the school with a heavy heart and misty eyes. I miss my school now. If I ever get a chance to live those days again, I promise I will be a good Anupama who is confident, brave and true to friends at heart.

Indian Film Song Lyrics (via Doing Jalsa and Showing Jilpa)

I have never liked any blog post so much that I have opted to shamelessly re blog it without any change. Cheers to the writer.
Following are my favorites:
a) Superstar's formula for white.
b) Amitabh's 'mere anganey'
c) Rajesh Khanna's life algorithm.
d) Who all Govinda cares about.

I cannot resist Graphjam so here we are. Indian Film song lyrics explained with simple graphs. I promise, this will be the second last time I will be "inspired" (like Anu Malik) to remix a popular Internet meme for desi purposes. First we explore the Hindi Film Industry, or as Cineblitz chooses to acronymize, HiFI UPDATE: My 90 minute drive back home from office resulted in these Priyank gives us a lesson in the geographic origins of day to day i … Read More

via Doing Jalsa and Showing Jilpa

Dosa!

Soak your favorite rawa in water,
and make it into paste.
Put this batter on a heated tawa,
Awesome it will taste.

Dosa, as they call it,
my all-time favorite snack.
Some magic it has,
which all other eatables lack.

Add fine chopped onions,
and any masala powder a pinch,
Some divine flavor will add up,
and you'll devour its every inch.

Dosa can be of many shapes,
distorted India being common.
It can also be oval
like the face of someone.

Only few can make it round,
and get it off the tawa very safe.
Many a times it gets torn,
Uncooked and bad it will chafe.

Do not forget the chutney,
that of coconut is yummy.
Enjoy your dosa like a Royal,
till it fully fills your tummy.