Moving on-2

Moving-on1 continues:

"You don’t have to like him. Just go and meet him once." My mom was persuading me to meet someone that weekend. Both my parents liked him and very much wanted this proposal to work out.

"Please amma..I don’t want to get married." I moved the phone away from my face for her not to hear my sobbing.  And I had been telling her the same from the time Karthik and I were together. That was no less than two long years!

"But tell me why ?"  She tried not to show her anger because I was already upset.

The terms 'marriage','love','family' all these  reminded me of last day's goodbye. I was not sure if I wanted to be like this for the rest of my life but definitely my heart was not ready at that moment. Was it because I still love him? Or was it because I was sorry for him? Or was it because I was guilt-ridden? I really dint know. My thoughts ceased when I heard mom shout my name.

"Helloo Sruthi?"

"Yeah. Hello." I acknowledged.

"Is something wrong?"  More than wrong, I said to myself.

"Sruthi, please try to understand. You're 25 already. Your sister is 23 now. Your dad and I have this responsibility of...." She was seemingly  angry at my adamance. I told her I'd think over it and hung up. As I leant back on my bed , I saw Neethu barging into my room.

"You ok?" Her happy face instantly put on colors of anxiety after seeing me. I put up a fake smile.

"Aah..I know why. Come, lets go for a drive"

"Not now Neethu."

"You needn't drive. Just come along please." She pleaded like a kid.

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="247"] Source:http://www.yourlifeyourway.net/[/caption]

"I said not now." I was firm.

"I said right now." She was equally firm and forced me out of my room without paying heed to my lies of not being well. I gave up and we were driving on the highway with windows down.

"So, you both met again." She said as if she had seen it with her own eyes. I was not stupid to ask her how she knew it. Neethu actually knows me inside out.

"Yeah and I told him its all over."

"But it doesn’t seem so." She paused and said "At least from your face."

"I need time to get over this Neethu. Don’t expect me to be normal when the wound is still fresh."

"It'll remain fresh till you get normal" She gave a sharp retort.  "Who were you talking to?"

"Mom. She wants me to go and meet some stupid this weekend." I murmured and I felt my eyes were ready to get wet any moment now.

"Hey, that is a good idea."  She continued before I could react. "You don’t intend to remain single for the rest of your life anyways , do you?"

"You know what has been going on in my life for the past few months" I lost my patience and wanted to censure her severely.  Is life really that simple?

"I am serious. If you are certain that you have no plans of going back to Karthik, just move on." She had a point. One contrast we both had was that Neethu had  a brain and I had a heart.

"But how Neethu..Every time I think of the past, it hurts."

"Why do you have to recall it in the first place and get hurt ?"

I had no answer. But I had tears in my eyes.

"Do you know there is one ride in which rear view mirrors are much clear than the windshields?" She asked. She had this habit of abruptly changing topic when I was down.

"Tell me. Can you think of any?"
I tried to think. How can one even drive when one cannot see what is in front? Rear view mirrors are just meant to see what is coming along and what just went past.

"I don’t know Neethu. What is it?"

"Life."  I was amazed. She nailed it. She paused for a while and continued.

"So Sruthi,  enough of looking into the rear view mirror. Just because it is clear unlike your windshields, staring at it wont get you anywhere. It is just meant to see what we have been through! Trust me and move on."

***

Needless to say, I decided to move on. The decision was quick for the impact it would have but I had given enough thinking to it.  One comfort I had after making that was my parents were happy. The rendezvous  was fixed and I was going to meet someone that weekend. The white lie I told Karthik was no longer a lie.

After all, destiny is something that ought to be only accepted. It can neither be justified nor simplified.

Moving on-1

"How are you?"

What a cliched question that was. It was showing in my face that I was embarrassed to talk. It was showing in my attire that I was doing good financially. It was showing in my gait and standing posture that I was fine physically.

"I am fine."

"Your parents?"

"Good."

"Your sister?"

"Yeah good. How are you?" It was a matter of courtesy then to ask back. He nodded his head.

"Do you mind if we sit and talk?"

Next minute, we were seated at the corner table of the college canteen where we usually sat when we were a couple.

Our eyes never met. But I knew I was looking at him and he was looking at me. The silence that prevailed between us was new to me.  There were no sign of any chuckle or giggle or the guilty smile in his face that my heart used to crave for.

"I am not fine Sruthi."

"What happened?" Of course I knew what happened. All I got back was a stern look which was a tight slap on my face.

"I mean.. I thought you must have moved on." I lowered my head and said slowly.

"I tried a lot." he said. I tried not to speak. I wanted to hear more. Why? Because I knew he loved me a lot. And it gave me a sense of pride for having "owned" his love. After a short pause he continued.

"I avoided taking that snaky route in which we used to walk. I gave up coffee because it reminds me of your obsession with the less-sugar-more-coffee. I gave up wearing checked shirts because I long to see that 'thank-you' smile on your face when you see me wearing them. I..."

"Try seeing another girl." I cut the dialogue short. Because my heart couldn’t hold it any longer. I knew I ruined his life by walking out of it. At that second, I wanted him to hate me as much as he loved me.

"What did you just say?"

"I said try seeing another girl."

"You really mean it?"

"Yeah."

"And you wouldn't be bothered?"

"Of course not." I looked away. Then I continued.

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Source: http://facebookemoticons123.blogspot.in"][/caption]

"Why would I be bothered? We are not together anymore. We need to get over this. Life shouldn't stop for any of us. When we know this won't work out, there is no point in pondering over future of this, right? Keep yourself busy with something. I am sure you will see the change. You won't even take my name once you are with someone else." I paused my lecture. Did I really mean all that I said? The very thought of he being with someone else shuddered me. But that was okay.  I couldn't have him thinking about me for the rest of his life. I was sure he wouldn’t even think of anybody else if he had me in mind. I had to make him erase all those memories somehow.

"Oh. Is this what you did? to move on." There was both sarcasm and some melancholy when he said the last words. One question I was waiting for.

"Yes. I am going to meet a guy this weekend." I instantly lied. And I bent my head down like I always did when I couldn’t look into his face.

"Marriage proposal?"

"Sort of."

"Oh.." A long pause followed.

"Will you tell him that you have had a past relationship?" he smiled. I never knew his smile could pierce me so hard that it started paining inside. Both literally and even otherwise.

"There is nothing to lie/hide. I have not done a mistake by being in one." I said firmly. First dialogue  that I truly meant that evening.

"I am very glad you don't regret it."

"Why will I regret it? You are a very nice person. I am sure you will get a better girl." This time my voice shook. He smiled again.

"I don't need a better girl. I don't need this soothing session either."

"I am just being honest."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yes."  He dint speak for a while. And my heart sensed that the calmness around was actually a prelude to a whirlpool coming.

"I never thought that one such episode would come in my life Sruthi. Not with you! I heard it is hard for girls to fall in love, but it is easy for them to come out of it.You just, just proved it again. You are no special. You’re just another girl."  End of the conservation. And silence again set in. Silence which can actually kill. That silence so high in decibels that your ear cannot take it. I recalled his previous words. My job was done. I was no longer special to him. It meant I won the battle of separation by killing myself. I stood up and walked towards my bike like a zombie. The hand which usually used to reach out to mine when I was down was resting on the table. The one whom I had in all my heart said I did not have one. If only I could show him my broken heart. I sat on my bike and was ready to go. I could see Karthik in the mirror and it read "Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear". I broke down.

Of dogs!

Disclaimer: Not for those who love pet dogs.

Whoever generalized "A dog is a man's best friend " is wrong. If you ask me to list my enemies, probably the second name in my list would be dogs ( first being spiders). I hate them that much. Both domesticated and street dogs. I find it cute when a pet dog calmly walks beside the owner  like a Royal but it is irritating when it scares others walking on the same road. I also like it when the dog in Vodafone ad gets the girl's scarf for the boy but I'll probably  jump out of my skin if see a dog running towards me like that. I'll explain why.

The first problem with a pet dog is that it is used to cuddling and pampering and expects the same when it sees other familiar faces. All I know is to smile at/shake hands with



known people. I cannot ever imagine hugging a dog. Secondly, some dogs bark at the top of their voice for the guests to acknowledge their presence. I don't need that because I wont bat my eyelid once I see a dog around. And third, some sit beside the guest and expect a share from his/her plate. No way, I am not going to do that even for gazillion dollars. It is even more irritating when the owner sits grinning and doesn’t take the poor fellow's fears seriously. Some even laugh it off saying "Chill! My kanna doesn’t harm anyone. He just wants to be friends." Don't you just hate it when that brat who scared you is called cute names?

Tyson, a German Shepherd that used to live in our opposite house in VKSP was one such monster. He was as tall as me. When he generally opened his mouth to show his tongue, the sight was so horrifying that it could be patented for horror movies. Every time our cricket ball/bird fell inside their compound walls, we used to shiver to go and ask for it.Tyson always had this "come-inside-I'll-get-you" expression on his face. But the uncle who owned him used to say "come inside beta. He is a very nice dog. He won't bite you." Tyson's fierce looks used to rule out any whit of truth in his statement. One day when one of us actually dared to open the gate despite other kids' warnings, Tyson barked so loudly that all his ancestors resting in Heavens above must have definitely heard his voice. We then decided from next time we would rather buy a new bird than fall prey for a dog.

If pet dogs are like sterilized needles, street dogs are like sharp uncalled piercings. I mean ultimately both of them will pain you. I could clearly hear my heart pound when I saw 10-15 street dogs in a single sight when I was on my way to a friend's house.  It was as if they were having some caste meet. I pledged to go around a temple for 108 times if I escaped unnoticed. And the plight of carrying some eatable in hand and walking past a street dog needn't be explained. I once saw a black dog stand on its hind legs in front of a small girl who was eating an ice-cream. One sight which made me nearly faint.

So on the whole, I cannot walk a road 'undisturbed' with a pav bhaji packet in hand if there is any street dog in vicinity. I cannot go to any house which has this "beware of dogs" plate on the gate and come out without embarrassment.  I cannot even call a dog a dog. When I try to shout for my rights, someone from Blue Cross will come over and say have some pity for the animals. Why this kolaveri di?

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?