THE WONDER YEARS

Warning:
Title borrowed and cliched (as u can see).
LONG.
SENTI.
PERSONAL.
GIBBERISH.
For all those who are looking for a general topic please skip this one, cos this particular space has been quite personalised and the all the mumbo jumbo with the initials would require patient decoding skills.You can crack them only if you know me, but if you arent bothered bt details, read on...

Life is weird! I know that’s something that’s uttered by every Leela, Shyama and Rahul, every drunken college dude ,every aunty in her menopausal state, every daddy who sees his daughter in a mini skirt, and so on… But I never was trying to be unique here so Im excused in saying it.. Life IS weird! Every one of our lives.. so many people making their entries and exists in this one single short life that we have. Some quietly, some as dramatic as it can get, some coming in for absolutely no purpose at all. “Hey dude.. u free? Lets go check out the scene in her life!” And they come as mere spectators, put on their invisible goggles and scan the arena, shake their heads to the tune of the current racket and when they’re bored, they make an exit. There are others who storm into the persons life, create a racket and leave when they themselves cant handle it anymore. And ofcourse the others who stay forever.

I was coming back from work in my cab with three of my colleagues in the back seat. They were fervently debating about who’ll win that nights football match. It seemed to be a crucial one but I was lost in my own world, watching the road .. a long stretch… leading backwards into my life. .. I was thinking of all the people in my life , since I could remember. They were so important .. whatever happened to them! They just left!At least some did!Im not going to write about the bystanders or the ones who gush out "Hello! How ARE youu"'s and dont want to hear anything other than "Fine".Im going to write about the others.

Lets see the first humans in my life that I can remember are FP and MP (Father Parent and Mother Parent… now ul get the drift). They taught me how to eat and where to pee and shit. They taught me the joy of crying out loud and getting what I wanted (I was born knowing how to cry but I didn’t know I could get anything from it!) . I doubt theres enough internet space to recount what all they’ve been to me, but all people who have parents will get the general idea. There was Mrs S or L(Susy or Lucy Im not sure!), my maid whose daughter had a much better kitchen set than mine. And Mrs B – she gave me an A in my kindergarden report and told my parents “Shes a pleasure!” in her sophisticated British accent. I hated her later for expressing distate bt my brothers constant pottying in her class . What could he do? He was only one then and he had no idea about the concept of toilets!Oh there is my brother Master S who turned out to be a boy in spite of my fervent prayers for a baby sister. Im glad now those prayers weren’t answered and God knew better. He belongs to the forever category so I have a whole lifetime to discuss him. Let me just say he sits in a a very strategic central position in my heart. Miss K , the beautiful teachers daughter in second standard who had a better handwriting and who beat me to the choir for the “sleeping beauty” drama. Agh ! How I still hate her !I remember learning the words of “Aye Mere hum safar” with J and dancing to the steps of the Habbeena dance… the dance to which our school seniors danced too. In second standard we thought they were so cool, the big girls who got to wear make up and had boyfriends. My grans, Va, U , Ve1 and Ve2. (So much encryption…) Va is still there in my conscience and every good and loving part of me. A great man, Although he did accurately point out when I was really small that im one jealous little thing .. But I can forgive truth:-). Did I mention Master J, my first crush..? Years later when I met him I was quite appalled at my young taste, not that any of the others were all that hunky dory!!School in india was a different game altogether.Mrs L was the first in my life to actually put in words that I was ABSENT MINDED. The first time I heard it I thought it was a terrible thing to say and I cried in class. Miss L my official best friend, then and now. Its strange how the tag stuck, but I know shes one of those people wholl be there always and lifes only the better for it. I wonder whats up with S chetan our old driver whos done a lot more than driving for our family. He was a big source of gyan to my brother. “S cheta, y do you have a kannadi here in the car”. “Oh mone, that is the rear view mirror for seeing if cars are coming close from the back”….”And this..?”..

Some of the rest of the years are quite a blur. There are vivid pictures of T and I(I as in me :-))in the swimming pool floating around, discussing life, or whatever little we knew of it. At the time we thought we knew everything until we were one day shocked by what we read.He he… “Our parents did that!!!!!” Ah Sex was a completely new dimension and we set out to explore it.. only in books ofcourse. S, P , J .. the radical bunch in school, inseparable from me. I thought wed never part.. our ideas were the truth and our dreams were to fight for and our friendship was something no one else had experienced. Or so we thought! Will I ever forget C who gave me my first flowers. He taught me Queen and Santana and romance and how different it is to be friends with a guy. I hope hes happy wherever he is.
Mrs A stamped on my heart the love of English and the impression is here to stay. She showed me a magical world of words and ideals and virtues to uphold. I followed her advice and started my first diary.

Family, part of the groundwork, and friendship within the family is a big white huggable structure that gives you strength that a mere friend cannot.My first memories with ma cousine T are of bitter jealous struggles for the chewing gum and the hammock and of establishing whos better. Which was later forgotten and grew into a bond that went beyond just family.Politics(both family and outside), womens rights, latest heart break, the state of yesterday today tomorrow, books, music, lit, parents,school, college, work... endless endless conversations and rock solid support.F, J , Ti, R gave me something to belong to, my peer branches growing along with me,with the same complaints and pride about our common roots!

I had so many dreams about college, but the first day in “K_ _” squashed all of them.And gave me new ones. I thank all my stars that I didn room with Miss R who had so many lice in her head that her head was probably the most populated lice planet on earth! I would probably have missed out on my best experiences in college life if I had never met the MARSCAND’s. Or maybe I would have met them anyway. Some people are meant to find each other and that’s what happened. We found each other … on the first day itself and have stuck ever since. These girls have been my companions in crime, sorrow, laughter and the magical discovery of that ever eluding factor called truth. The truth that theres nothing like having a friend around when you want to shout out against the world, when you giggle inside about a secret that you want to share, when you feel like hugging someone after a bad day of battling against the arrogant chauvinists, the sadistic educators and your insensitive collegemates. M showed me how to get back to earth, A showed me that life can be complex if you don’t deal with it the right way (in quite an ironic sense), R taught me about being simple and pure, C colored my life with her humour. A was almost a reflection of myself, except that she stuck more by her principles which didn change often like mine:-).N lends me her ears and D was my soft pillow and help me cushion my falls.
College was about a guy who would always ruffle my feathers. Met him in Ist year ED class, clumsy and quite charming, spoke English and stole my ED sheets and answer papers and got better marks than me. Those comic years lent me a person to abuse, love and cherish, who'd hold my hand through accidents and little injustices and whiny teary days. But he wasn’t mine I realized later. Had to return him. Maybe no one really is anyone’s. And as you grow up lessons in life get tougher.
College was about all kinds of people and all kinds of recklessness. Didn’t do bungee jumping (wanted to..) unless it can be used as kind of metaphor! What I very distinctly remember is the first time I was taking an illegal (very innocently illegal !)trip to Chennai, I was lost in the city and I went to the only place I knew in CBE – Gayathris. And just when panic was getting the better of me, I thanked all the Gods when I saw a familiar face. A- who had come looking. My first guy friend in college and one of the very best. Cant stop smiling thinking of the crazy times!

The Illegal trips to Chennai- the wild side, N and J and G, the high point of every year! Rollercoasting sky rocketing fun.Now that I think of it, theres nothing much we did, but being yourself with them and knowing them has been one of the best things that have happened to me… or them Im sure .. ha!

Man this is getting quite sentimental, but yeah Iv lived a pretty full 24 years and damn these ppl were sweet.

The Bangalore bunch.2 years in bangalore.Shed my inhibitions, opened up, learned to enjoy myself and also waded into painful dangerous waters.P, a real laugh to be with, her outrageous "first impressions", high decibelled speech and loo habbits(haha.. sorry!!) came into the fold and became an extension of "the marscand's".. atleast to me.Met a set of unforgettable people.They came into my life, showed me some great times and one by one, slowly exited but we'll keep in touch.We should.That was some good fun we had there.Sa whod take his own sweet time to complete his lunch while everyone else would try filling up the gap with funny rubbish and fidgety spoons.Su whose jaws were constantly shaking with laughter.M, Mr Singh who hated my movies.. sniff!And P the ever indulging one, who let me be the wild me without giving a small fig!I like that expression.I dont give a FIG!!

Things are changing now and Im still going with the flow. I dont know where downstream leads to but maybe Il land on a bank where theres a sweet life waiting for me (ie, a nice man and a great career and cute kids and money to buy pretty furniture and clothes and cars and absolutely no troubles:-)). I can already hear a new voice beckoning from afar, a faceless voice, Mr A... A new bubble...A smiling promise.And who knows ...a good addition to my list of people in the forever slot.

Whichever road I take, its bound to be fun.After all Iv lived only a quarter of a century!!!(Good Lord!) theres many more years waiting to get explored!

Real Love

Just like little boys and girls
Playing with their little toys
Seems like all they really have been doing
Is waiting for love...

Its real love.. reeee-al love...

There's a song which has been playing in my head for a while, they have entered the corridors of my brain and the four of them are jamming away, Making music out of their guitars and drums, their voices seeping into my eager senses. The Beatles. The legends of rock and roll. I can only dream of the joy and the exhilaration of belonging to that time-the world of Beatles, a world where causes to fight for were plenty, optimism was high, love and the freedom of spirit was believed to be the beginning and end of everything. I can imagine myself standing there in the crowd wearing pink lip shaped glasses holding out my hand for them. I can imagine myself standing in the rain, waiting in those endless queues to purchase a signed copy of the "staying alive" record! When the Bee Gees came in with an unforgettable squeak. I want to have been there too when they discovered disco and when women fought for what we have today. Ideas were new then and there was a spirit in everything that u touched. And then the 60s and 70s got over and the world evolved into today’s techiez space. We have ideas too nowadays and spirit is still high but hardly the romance. If there is its being balanced out by the cynicism and corruption that seems to have penetrated every free pore.
But let me come back to what I was talking about or rather what I thought I will start talking about. The song. I was on my way back from Cochin all wrapped up in the flimsy blanket that they provide in the volvo listening to my latest indispensable possession-ipod. My toes were crying out loud for a share of the warmth too but the blanket eluded it and in spite of me reaching up to turn off the AC, cold air seemed to be coming directly at me from some wicked outlet. My only comfort was the music that went a long way in providing me with the distraction and warmth that I so needed. And then this song came on and all was forgotten.It turned me into mush, it wasn’t really the words but the way the words were sung. It was the voices behind it and listening to them I was fully convinced too, that all that I do and the people around me are doing doesnt matter. We are all just biding time until we find reeeeeal love! So well just go on about our daily life and act like its important while the real thing is still out there waiting to come in at the right moment and open our hearts! Their voices wake me up and let me roam around in a special vista of my own where I have found it too and I can feel what they are singing and I can see what they know.