Thought for the day three

If someone speaks to you with anger, pour the soothing waters of love on the fire

Anger is the second biggest vice in our lives. As per Hindu scripture there are six vices a person can have. Lust (Kaama), Krodha (Anger), Lobha (Stinginess), Moha (Infaturation), Madha (Pride or ego) and Maatsarya (Jealousy)

When we lust for something, if we don’t get that we get angry. So lust and anger are twins. But if one is angry, we have to be really calm. If we compare anger to fire, our words should be like water. If our words become oil or petrol or ghee, then the fire would become higher and more severe. Anger is even bad for health. When we get angry, the adrenalin level will go up and the blood rushes to heart and the brain.

The arteries in the heart are like a pipe. They can take a particular amount of blood flowing in them. When the anger rises, the blood tries to rush in. More blood than it can take. This leads to high blood pressure.

In James Hadley Chase’s novel a character uses a sentence “You look as if you have bust a blood vessel” when he sees another person seething with rage.

The rage leads to even heart attack or hemorrhage.

Do we really deserve to die like this? Definitely not. Probably we would not have even half-finished what we have aimed to complete in our life.

For a long life, we need to be stress-free. We need to be keeping the anger at abeyance. Lord Krishna says in Bhagavad Gita, a person who does not have anger, lust and fear is stable minded.

So, anger is one of the worst vices.

When someone is angry with us, if we could calmly talk back to them, it acts as a balm and the anger subsides. Only a sadistic person could make the other person angrier when the person is already angry. Or the person may not be sadistic. He may not be able to control his feelings.

Anger is like fire. It not only burns the others, it also burns self.

I have read somewhere. When you are angry don’t ever talk. Better count up to 100. The anger may get subsided by then.

When we are angry, we not only should not open our mouth, we should not write any letter or email. Because, due to the anger we would write down whatever is kept hidden in our mind about the person at whom our anger is pointed at.

In Kannada language, there is a proverb, “the nose which has been cut during anger, can it be reinstated?”

We can’t be that pathetic. There are some people whose second name is anger. The other term for the angry people is that they have a short fuse.

For many people, anger is heredity. May be the early generations had lot of time on their hand and they could get angry on someone, may they had lot of time to get it subsided also.

Nowadays who is the time to get angry? If someone says something un-parliamentary to someone else in anger, these words cannot be taken back. The damage is permanent.

That is why the saying spoken words, the arrow which has left the bow and the days which are already been over – never come back.

It is a great achievement to get the right amount of anger at the right amount on the right people is very difficult. When that is so, why get angry and make everyone miserable including the person who is angry?

Many people use anger as a weapon. But it is better to keep humility as our armour and we can experience some sort of protection.

For people full of anger, we have to be very calm and smiling (ensuring not to make them feel that we are mocking them or being sarcastic) and pour the soothing waters of love on that fire of anger!

If someone defames you with his words, or insults in anger, shower him with flowers, smiles and good wishes.

Thought for the day two

What was the future happens now, what happens now becomes the past – so why worry?

Here the philosophy is Tena vina truna mapi na chalati which means without Your help even a grass won’t move. The writer is meaning God when he says You.

Destiny and fate are words connected with the happenings in our lives.

When we get something good out of turn, we say it’s our destiny. On the other hand, if something bad happens (which we never want to happen!) we say it’s our fate.

Of course, there are people who say that if we work hard, we can change our destiny. Fate is not available for changing.

There are many people who worry too much about their future and promptly spoil their present. If we observe the sentence again, what we feel is future will be on us before we count one, two, three.

In the same way, the present becomes a thing of the past.

There is a saying in Sanskrit language.

Chitaayaastu chintaayaastu bindu maatram vishishyate

Chitaa dahati nirjeevam, chintaa dahati sajeevam.

When you say the word Chitaa and the word Chintaa we may observe that there is the additional ‘n’ in between. Chitaa means the pyre. Chintaa means the worry. Can you make out the difference? Vast!

The saying says further that the Chitaa (pyre) burns the dead body and the Chintaa (worry) burns a living person.

Is this called for? No, more you worry about a problem, more you go away from a possible solution. The worry clouds the thinking mind and shrouds our judgment. We end up getting into problems.

Honi ko kaun Taal sakta hai? is a saying in Hindi language. This means what is going to happen cannot be stopped by anyone. In fact there is a philosophy that everything is destined. In fact, all the incidents happening in our lives are already written (like a drama). We are all players. We have to only play our roles till we are alive. Then it is in the hands of the God who will decide where to send whom – whether to give him salvation or send him to go through the next birth.

It may not be completely true say some people. They believe in efforts. In fact, we write our destiny ourselves, by putting effort is what they insist.

Lord Sri Krishna says the same thing in the ‘Song of the Lord’ Bhagavad Gita. You are bound by your karma (deeds) and you have no right on the result. It is completely at my discretion he says.

Some sort of contradiction. But still, we need to be alert while doing our karma. We should ensure that we should not harm others, even if we can’t help others. We have no right to throw a spanner in somebody else’s life’s works.

If you think a little deeply, the shape of our body, color of our skin and the way our face looks are not in our hands. This is given by God or nature - depending upon you are a devotee or a scientist!

That means the physical thing is out of our hands. But, the mind and intellect are under our control.  We can control our actions while talking to others. We can avoid hurting them. We can make their life happy when we meet them.

There is a saying ‘Some people bring happiness when they come and some others when they go’

So, we can keep ourselves happy by bringing happiness to others. We can make them feel happy in the present and make them feel secure in the future.

Where there is happiness, there is no worry. Where there is no worry, there is peace of mind. This leads to satisfaction in life.

After all, except for the materialistic money, all other things what we always want are not in physical form.

Thought for the day one

Even with a small bank account the one who is contented finds himself with great wealth

The word 'satisfaction' comes to mind when we read the above sentence.

The wealth is a relative term. If one person is earning in a house, one car is more than enough. Suppose there is a second person earning, then the second car becomes a necessity.

I have heard someone saying, “When one rides a two-wheeler, the rider gets hurt first then the two-wheeler gets damaged. On the other hand, if one is in a four wheeler, chances are there that the car gets damaged first rather than the person”.

Very true! But the bitter truth is, in the Indian scenario, the petrol cost is so prohibitive, that one feels like not driving a car at all!

Seriously money is very important. Come to think of it.. money is not that important.

Why this riddle? There was a movie in Kannada which had the title is money more powerful? Or the people?

There are instances that the money brings more people near us. They are attracted to our money or our power. These two make them getting stuck to us. But we have seen instances where the people literally remove themselves from us when they find that we are paupers!

I have read a story in Chandamama, a children’s monthly magazine which I was reading adoringly during my childhood. In fact, it is one of the first ever magazines I started reading when I was 7 year old.

The story is known as ‘The Seventh Pot of Gold’. A man would be digging his field to plant some seeds. To his amazement, he finds a pot full of gold hidden inside the earth. He couldn’t believe his luck. The amazement got doubled when he saw a second pot of gold. Actually, his joy was sevenfold since he found seven pots full of gold.

No, six were full. The seventh was half full... no half empty. He thought like that because he was pessimistic.

Oh God, you are kind that you have given me six pots full of gold. I thank you for that. But why did you make the seventh pot half empty?

Ok, you want me to fill it? I shall do it. He foolishly decided to fill the seventh pot with gold. The story ends with the person selling everything he has to fill the seventh pot. He ends up bankrupt.

Desire is the seventh pot. It can never be full. So, instead of lengthening the cot to adjust our legs, the proverb says, please stretch your legs as much as your cot allows.

That is why the quote on the top says ‘Even with a small bank account the one who is contented finds himself with great wealth’.

If we segregate our salary (most of us are salaried middle class people) properly and ensure we save enough every month, we do not end up searching for money when most needed.

Let me explain. Take the example of some premium payment for insurance. It would be either weekly or quarterly or monthly or half yearly or yearly.

What we get every month as salary is what we get. So, all expenses and savings have to be through the salary.

If we have to pay an annual premium of Rs.12,000 every year, instead of emptying that particular month’s salary, we have to keep away Rs.1,000 every month earmarked for the premium. At the end of the year, we won’t have the pinch of Rs.12,000 being removed from our bank account.

This could be extended for our children’s educational fees, loans we have to repay.

I have benefited by this method. I don’t feel the financial crunch. It is not that I spend all the money I get or I save all the money. I do spend, I do save and I do enjoy my life.

In fact, when I read this quotation in my daily calendar, I could get connected to the statement the writer.

Try this, you will definitely find your life (economically) easy!

Invite for a story

I got this letter from Karmaveera. ‘Please send a story as soon as possible!’

Oh, this is one more dream come true of mine! Have I arrived? Well, even today I don’t feel that I have done a great job of writing. Yes, I have written. I have written interesting stories, novels. If any one of the stories has given any sort of small satisfaction to any one of the readers, then my writing is justified.

When the invite came to write a story, there was this news item which was bothering me. A man from Nepal comes to India (Assam), changes his birth certificate (twice!), stands for election and wins! He becomes an MP in the Indian Constitution. He makes money, earns fame.

When someone digs his past, skeletons fall out. He is a fugitive in Nepal. He has killed his sister and escaped the prison. He flees to India. Befriends someone. Deals with drugs. Then becomes an MP.

He is now caught. He justifies his actions. He says, when the people have accepted me, why should the police bother?

Really a sad state of affairs.

This was really made me very sad. Are we such type of fools that we don’t care who is going to lead us? Are we blind? Can’t we see these things? Are we so dumb? Are we so deaf that we don’t hear the inner voices of our own?

I decided to write the story. I am always fascinated by storytelling style of James Hadley Chase. When a criminal tells his own story (in first person) and gives justification to all his actions, you almost believe that he is right!

That is the power of JHC’s storytelling. I decided to use the same for this particular story. My hero, I mean myself as I tell the story myself, has run away from the neighboring country after killing his sister. He reaches the nearest State, deals with drugs. Gets attracted to a married woman, gets her husband killed and then marries her. He loses interest in her after a few years because another attractive woman comes into his life. He changes his identity twice to partake in elections. He wins. When he was campaigning for the second term, his life’s dirt would be dug out.

Now he is at a fix... he is caught and jailed. He tries to justify that when people have given their mandate, what is the big deal? Who are police to put in jail?

But he is taken to his original country and tried. My hero tries to put in all the words to argue so that he could again come back to India and become an MP and ‘serve’ the people!

We don’t have a system wherein the people standing in for elections should be ‘clean’. They should not have gone to jail. They should be minimum graduates. Their kith and kin should not be in politics.

These things would never happen and the change would never take place. Indian electorate i called the sleeping elephant. This elephant wakes up once in every five years (or whenever the elections take place) it wakes up, shakes its body once and goes back to sleep for the next five years (or till next elections) unmindful of the result of its voting and the repercussions it has to face.

Politics needs a basic lesson

Politics needs a basic lesson

Anil told me a complicated story. But he told in simple terms. I thought of making it into a detective story, I found that it was not easy!

So, I had to do a new trick. I remembered my home when I came to stay 14 years ago. The house was quite lonely those days. So, I created a new building with only 3 occupants. One with a pair which was always fighting, a darling daughter, the next door neighbor always on tour and his wife loves to eavesdrop. The third house has a working pair with a young son who is presently on wheel chair due to an accident. That boy is a lover of detective movies and stories.

The wife and husband of the first house always fight. The husband is so frustrated that he is even ready to kill her and go to jail. Wife suspects that her husband is having an affair with the next door eavesdropper.

The man is also an avid politics follower. He wants to become a politician. He feels each one of the citizen should vote. Then only a proper government comes into existence etc.,

That day the fighting wife and the eavesdropper go out to have a Darshan of a swamiji during that night. The hero would be keen to do the job of a polling agent next day as the country is going for an election. Unfortunately while going on the scooter, he is hit by an ambulance and  both the hands get damaged. He is hospitalized.

Next day morning a report comes to the police station that the darling daughter of the man is dead. Someone has smothered her to death while she was asleep.

The police inspector starts the detection. The boy next door gives a few hints. The story takes a few turns and finally the culprit turns out to be the man. How can he kill his own darling daughter?

He would not have been caught had he not gone to the polling booth to vote and got the purple dot on his finger as a mark of completed his voting.

Why he killed his daughter? The daughter was not supposed to be at home. The wife was to be at home. But as luck would have it, the wife does not come back and the daughter comes back and sleeps on her mother’s bed. The darkness, completely covered blanket hoodwinks the man. He smothers his dear daughter thinking that it is his wife.

When we can’t keep our home straight, we can’t keep the country intact. First, put the house in order is the moral of this detective story.

This appeared in the Deepavali issue of Karmaveera. I remember, when someone asked me what makes you feel that you are a famous writer, I had replied that my story should be published in a special issue and also some magazine editor should invite me to send a story.

Well, first dream was fulfilled with this. The other desire, well, that too got fulfilled a few years ago!

Death by water

This is a unique story. I was so happy to write that. Anil gave the idea. It was a very simple narration by him. He told the story takes place in an island. Then I remembered about a few islands in Uttara Kannada/Dakshina Kannada. One name I could remember reading in a magazine, Mavina Kurve.

So, with this basis I started the story of possessiveness, sacrifice, bewilderment, loneliness, what people do to overcome loneliness etc.,

The story was quite long. I sent it to Sudha, the famous weekly in Kannada.

The story had elements like Split personality, Multiple personality disorder – without these fancy names, of course.

I remember Jayanti’s stunning and mind blowing performance in the Kannada Movie ‘EraDu mukha’ meaning two faces. It was based on a famous novel in Kannada by Ms. Aryamba Pattabhi. A girl who is not well off and working to look after her family, with a lot of desires, finds herself looking at the dead body of her mother. She is totally stunned and she is vertically split.

She is actually Ramaa, a demure, even pallu not moving out of place, without any makeup, taking care of her siblings and father.

The split image is Umaa, carefree, sleeveless, full of makeup and not caring about her family.

The story takes a turn when Ramaa discovers the existence of Umaa in herself. How the psychiatrist makes her one is the rest of the story.

Nargis acted in the Hindi version – Raat aur Din. – Dil ki girah khol do... do you remember the song. I believe Nargis has put on record that she felt Jayanti has put in a better performance.

Oh, I am totally digressing. Sorry!

Here the daughter of the heroine becomes possessive of her mother and starts killing the men who try to befriend her mother. The mother of course has no bad intension. Due to her husband’s death she has become lonely and wanted some platonic company. The daughter doesn’t realise it and she takes law into her hands, without knowing what is happening.

I called it JalaganDa. Anil was laughing at the title.

Sudha people had kept it for some days. So, I went to enquire. As luck would have it, it was appearing within the next two weeks!

I was so thrilled since Sudha doesn’t entertain more than 3 pages to a story and mine was 5 pages long!

I even love the story since movies like Anniyan were made on Multiple personality disorder. Sidney Sheldon wrote ‘Tell me your dreams’ which gets mentioned in Anniyan. Mine was little earlier than bothJ

Sheena

Bangalore is burning hot and the best place to sleep is the bare floor. All these years I never did do that. But this time, yes, I have no choice. The bedspread or the bed sheet just ‘burns’ my body. So, I was sleeping and the mobile started ringing out of the blue.

Mobile ringing at this unearthly hour? The mind immediately suspects some sad news awaiting at the other end of the receiver.

Yes, it was my wife’s cousin saying that Mr. Srinivas is no more. You know? We were actually waiting for that news from almost 6 weeks. Because the doctor had written him off about that time.

But still… when the actual news of his death reached me, I felt bad. How is this possible?

Well, this is called the attachment of the heart… isn’t it?

Srinivas or Sheena as he was known in the relatives’ circle was a great person. I came to know him the day Usha came to our home when we were supposed to ‘see’ each other, to see whether we would decide to ‘see’ each other for a lifetime.

Yeah, he was there the day of my Vadhu/Vara pareekshe. The custom in India where the ‘boy’ and the ‘girl’ decide to just see each other for an hour or two and decide whether to become ‘bridegroom and bride’.

We said yes to each other that day and the marriage got fixed and we got married within the next 2 and ½ months.

She had so many relatives. It took me three years to recognise all of them by their correct names!

Sheena was with me when my engagement took place on 12/12/86 and then he was with me while I was supposed to buy a suit for my wedding reception.

He was in the bust to Mysore (where my wedding took place) on 1/2/87, the previous day to my wedding.

Usha became my wife. The relatives kept coming our home and we kept going to her/my relatives’ homes for lunch, dinner etc.,

Sheena was always very loving. He treated me with the same affection whenever we met in these 25 years and a few months.

A helping hand he was, when my cousin wanted to go the US of A, he was short of funds (Well, not short actually, he never had any funds!).  We approached Sheena and he willingly transferred his money (a big chunk at that) to my cousin’s account. My cousin got his visa and flew to the US of A. As of now, he is still there since 1993.

Sheena did not charge any interest for that help.

His house was like a choultry. His relatives from his native place used to come for some or the other work to Bangalore and made his house a centre.  They sometimes have stayed for months. Sheena never bothered. All he wanted was to help them.

This helping nature was very rarely seen in people.

Poor man, he was attacked by the crab. He developed tongue cancer. He suffered for some time. Then the cancerous growth was removed. He seemed fine.

But the crab was very cruel. It came back. This time it made him become very weak.

Sheena had a boisterous, booming voice. Even the greeting when I used to meet him was VERY loud. When my son raised his voice, we used to say ‘Why are you shouting like Sheena?’

The voice which was his trade mark became silent. He could not speak. Ever since August 2011, he was unable to speak. He was barely whispering. The medicines were brought from the US of A, at a very high price (really high). The injections were very very painful and he used to have excruciating pain.

The pain became horrible. It was almost like everyone started praying for his death, since it was very painful to see his pain.

His son, who was not ready to get married at all, consented to get married. The marriage took place last month. Sheena was looking radiant with his tubes hanging from his mouth. It was almost since two months that he was being fed liquids through the tube in his nose.

He insisted and stayed in the marriage hall and greeted everyone with a smile in his eyes. He was signalling everyone that they should have their food.

He was hospitalised 2 days ago since he was writhing with too much pain. His wife Vijaya  and daughter Rani were with him the previous night. I believe he was signalling about the time. He wanted to know what the time was. When the daughter asked why, he showed 4 fingers and pointed his hand upwards. He drank some rice porridge at 2.30 am and insisted that his daughter should give him few spoons of water 2 times after that.

At 4 am, he just turned to a side and heaved a deep sigh of relief and that was that.

Sheena was declared dead.

I have read puranas which talk about life after death. We go on having new births as long as we have our Prarabdha karma which is a sprouted seed. There is Aagami which is about the get sprouted and sanchita which is a bag of seeds – our karmas.

Probably the Lord decided like this – This man has done only Punya karma throughout his life. May be I should give him some extra pain. That would be the punishments for his other births’ karmas. Once he undergoes this torture, he would be like the gold coming out pure from the fire.

May his soul rest in peace.  Dear God, please keep him in a good place. Let him ‘live’ peacefully forever.

Fire Bath

A dead body is seen by a shepherd boy Beera. The body is totally burnt. The inspector goes in search of clues. There is a small shirt label which is taken to the tailor to look out for the identity of John Doe.

The search ends up in knowing that the dead person is a youth Chandru who was crazy about joining movies. There was this friend Ravi who was trying to help to get a chance in films. Ravi is a junior artiste. He entices Chandru to shell out money. All the fingers point out towards Ravi. How the inspector finds out is a tedious process, but of course, interesting!

For the climax, I used a real incident which had just then occurred in a village in Karnataka. The villagers used to sacrifice a buffalo as part of some festival. That particular year, a social activist attends the function and protests against the sacrifice. He says ‘over my dead body!’ Finally the villagers give in and remove a little blood from the buffalo using a syringe and ‘please’ the goddess.

This incident the murderer doesn’t know because he was not there. He was busy in killing his friend by using fire. He says that he was in the village during buffalo sacrifice since it was happening every year from his childhood and even before.

As luck would have it, that becomes the last nail on his coffin.

I sent this story to a monthly magazine called Bhavana. The editor of the magazine was Mr. Jayant Kaikini, today’s most prolific lyricist of Kannada movies. He has written some of the most meaningful songs which have been very melodious as well.

He sent me a letter (or did he call me? I don’t remember!) asking me to meet with him. I went to his office in Vyalikaval. He was appreciative of the story. But he said that the story is little long and dragging a bit in some place. Could I be able to trim it a little?

So, trim I did. The story’s name is Agni Snaana meaning ‘fire bath’

This theme was given by Anil, my friend. I had seen a charred body in a sleeping (and about to get up) posture during one of my visit to Chikmagalore (on my way). That became the opening scene of the story.

When I was writing this story, my son who was in 6^th standard got inspired and wrote a mini story in Kannada. I sent it to Bhavana, because they were publishing stories from kids on one page. Out of the blue, even his story appeared! His friends do not believe that he has written it because his father (that’s I) is a writerJ

Mr. Kaikini mentioned that when he saw the surname being same, he thought he might be my relative (son).

Well, some other story some other time!

Mr. Anil Kumar and his story line

Mr. Anil Kumar KS, whom we call as Anil fondly. We shifted to Rajarajeshwarinagar in 1998, on 18^th May.

People who came for the house warming ceremony wondered where we have come and got stuck. It was the last house in Bangalore at that time!

I think, during 1999, Anil and family came to stay next door. Since we were only two families at that time, naturally, we became friends.

He is one of my avid readers and a critic too. After a few months, he started telling that he has some plots and why not I write stories based on some of his ideas.

This idea appealed to me and his ideas started flowing.

I wrote quite a good number of stories based on his narration. Though I told him that these are his stories, he used to say, ‘The idea is mine. But the way you have given it a shape is really nice’.

A woman, not very educated, promises her husband on his death bed, that she will make her son an engineer. The husband happily dies. The boy studies well. The mother provides him money for his educational needs. When he was old enough, he will ask what job she does. She is a tailor, she says.

The boy completes his engineering with flying colors. He does not find her at home. He has to deliver the news of his result to her just then. He finds her visiting card after a thorough search. He is surprised to find the card with his mother’s name and a landline number.

He will search for the address attached to the landline number using internet. He goes to that address...

The mother gets the sad news that her son is dead by suicide. The police suspect her to be the killer. The boy is killed by a knife. The finger prints on the knife are his mother’s.  But the police find that her fingers are bandaged that day due to some injury. She is let out on the benefit of doubt.

She comes home. The exhaust fan, which she had installed on the insistence of her son, is not working. The repairer comes. He finds a letter written on a thin sheet and hands it over to the mother.

She reads the letter. It is written by her son. He writes ‘Oh, mum! I can’t believe that you took so much of trouble to make me an engineer. It is almost like you stood in the hot sun and put me under your wings. You never let me know the harsh realities of life. I feel that the gift of education you have given me – I am not worthy of that. So, I am committing suicide. I cannot accept your gift’

She feels defeated. She did not have education. She was good looking. She decided to make money by being in the oldest profession in the world – prostitution.

When she finishes reading her son’s letter, she finds no interest in living any more. She collapses.

This story appeared in the magazine Mangala Weekly in Kannada. The story moved lot of people. The letters to the editor told that the writer is very cruel. Why should he kill the son? Why not make them ‘lived happily ever after’? I was stunned with the reactions the story got.

One person wrote a letter to my home, as the magazine had given my complete address. The letter abused me saying ‘How could you end the story like that? Have you undergone such a torture? You had no right to end the story like that etc.,’

I came to know that the people do react strongly to a story with a strong story line. In fact I had called the story ‘Maatru Chaaya’ meaning ‘in the shadow of mother’

I really thank Anil to have told me such a nice theme, though he says that I have totally given a new dimension to the story narrated by him in my own way.

Ubhaya SankaTa

Many people have helped in writing. Especially when I started writing short stories, these people have practically supplied the whole story! Sometimes a theme. That was generally enough for me to weave a story!

Earlier I was thinking that short story is difficult to write and novel is easy!

So, I did not try to write short stories (in the real sense). I was writing what is known as mini stories which will have a surprising ending, typically O. Henry-ish!

The first inspiration is Mrs. Lakshmi, my younger sister’s mother in law. She was a Carnatic classical singer as well as a story writer in Tamil.

I can read Tamil. May be I won’t be able to understand some of the verbs.

Her daughter, Ms. Bhanumati  narrated a story one day. I believe Mrs. Lakshmi wanted to write that, but did not.

She told the story in a funny style.  After some days, I gave the story my own style. The story is quite different. The old man, who keeps on calling his wife for everything and the wife comes running to him. Alas, one day she passes away. The old man is too lonely. He comes to stay in his son’s house. The son has two small kids and a nice wife. Now the target of the old man is the daughter in law. She has to run to him at his beck and call. She gets tired of this. The old man is good. But his calls leave her practically at loss. She tells her hubby that though she likes his father, her time is being unnecessarily being wasted.

At that time, the son’s friend’s father comes to stay with them. This other old man is so talkative and boring that the earlier old man forgets his talkativeness. He even offers help to his daughter in law in taking kids to school etc.,

The first old man gets tired of the second old man’s nonstop talks and one day he is feeling so low that he tries to tell his son about that, but could not bring himself to that.

After a few days the second old man goes off and the first old man heaves a sigh of relief. There is a twist here.

The second old man is a drama actor hired by the son to make his father feel that there are other things in life to enjoy. He takes this step and ensures that both his father and his wife do not know the truth, as he loves them both!

The story was published in a famous monthly  Mayura. It was in 1993 I think. In 1997, I shifted my house to Jayanagar from  West of Chord Road.  A TV producer came in search of me via the magazine, my old house! He did a 2 episode telefilm based on my story.  The same was aired in DD 9 of those days!

The story is called Ubhaya SankaTa.

In fact, I translated one of Mrs. Lakshmi’s stories called ‘Two letters’ – a very poignant family story. Let me tell you about that some other time!

Second novel and some advices

The detective would be reading a ‘detective’ novel when he is rudely interrupted by his nephew’s friend. He brings the news that detective’s nephew is hit by a bullet while traveling in the night.

The nephew was giving drop to a girl who was running away from home. She has ditched her rich husband, stolen some diamonds  and planning to run away with her lover. While going on the bike with detective’s nephew she gets hit by the bullet, so does the nephew.

As luck would have it, the bullet would have done very little damage to the nephew. Next day, he comes back. So, the detective, his nephew and nephew’s friend start the detection.

They would have seen a news that the wife of a rich man is dead due to heart attack. In fact, it was an obituary column which has seen by the nephew.

The nephew swears that the girl whom he dropped the previous night is same as the girl who is now claimed to have been dead due to a cardiac failure.

The trio suspects foul play and start detection.

The detection takes them to various places. They come to know that the girl’s mother who is jailed for wrong reasons has been killed by a drunken police inspector. The police inspector would be jailed.

The father is forced to identify the girl who is dead of heart attack as his own daughter and she is buried.

There is this secretary of the rich widower whom the trio suspects as the culprit.

They try all methods to know what is happening. By the time the trio tracks down the secretary, they find that he has been kidnapped by a gang.

Now they pursue the chase. The chase takes them to the coffee estates of Kodagu.

There are so many mysterious elements. There are two girls working in the rich man’s house. The trio suspects that one of them must have been killed instead of the girl who ran away. There is one more twist. The girl the trio had believed dead comes out alive and the girl whom the trio thought is alive is found to be dead.

The killers, kidnappers are nabbed at last and the story ends with a happy note.

There is one thing which I want to tell. My aunt, Ashwini, a famous author in Kannada read the serialization in Kannada Prabha.

On the last day of the serial’s publication, she promptly called me and said, ‘the story seems flat because of its end. Hope you ensure that there is a logical, but satisfying ending when you bring the serial as a book’.

Keeping this in mind, I added a scene where there is lover’s reunion.

The story, I felt, felt better now. After all, an experienced author’s idea was that!!!

My second novel

It was so satisfying seeing my first novel being serialised in Kannada Prabha on a daily basis for 41 days. Wow, I have written in the same slot as Dr. S L Bhyrappa who also had written one or two novels in Kannada Prabha. Of course, my other favourite Mr. T K Rama Rao who had written most of his thriller novels in Kannada Prabha. Really an overwhelming feeling!

Ok, what next? This question started bothering me. There has to be a subject on which I could start my second novel. But the mind went blank.

It was at that time I met Mr. Babu Krishnamurthy, then the editor of Mangala Weekly.

I told him that I don’t have any subject to write my second novel. He gave me plenty of ideas on how to get ideas!

He must have seen my blank face. He opened that day’s Kannada Prabha and showed me a news item. Why don’t you write about this?

I read the item with semi curiosity. Newspaper item? What story it could provide? -was the question in my mind.

But the item was very curious. Here is one girl who has been buried by her own father two years ago, has returned to her home. Quite an absurdity, if you ask me. The item also gave another interesting item about her husband hitting her mother and her ending up dead. Police are checking her whereabouts during the last two years.

My first doubt was, if the dead one is not the ‘dead’ one, then who has been buried by her father? This question started bothering me. Ok, this news item has some stuff, I decided.

I thought of the story line. Those days I was working in a company which took me to the depths of Kodagu District. A very small place where we placed a coffee pulping machine. I felt that, this would give me a good background for my novel. I started noting down points in a small notebook which I always carried in my packet.

I wanted a very interesting beginning for my novel. If they start, they should not stop in the middle. This was taught to me by my favourite author Mr. Yandamoori Veerendranath who is a very famous writer in both Telugu and Kannada.

As luck would have it, during that time, Mr. YV had written a book on ‘how to write popular novels?’ in Telugu. I was very eager to read the same. When I read the beginning, I was determined to use the same in my novelJ

I asked his permission and he said ‘YES’!

He had used suspense, comedy and horror for the commencement of his article series. I used the same continuously in my novel, Parishodha (Detection).

The hero Shathabhisha (my birth star) will be reading a suspense novel when someone knocks the door of his house. He opens and finds that his nephew’s friend has come to report that his (Shathabhisha’s) nephew has been shot.

This is only the beginning. The story takes quite a number of curious turns before the detection is complete.

The story, I will tell some other day. How the novel got serialised was more interesting than the story itself!

The assistant editor of Kannada Prabha came home. He was awaiting a novel from a famous detective novelist which did not seem to come on time to get serialised. The assistant editor put a proposal in front of me. If I can give the novel within the next 2 days. The plot was ready in my mind. Only thing was that I should write.

Luck was on my side. I went out from the office to get some photocopies done in mass scale. There was a huge power cut in that area that day. I had to wait till the power came. I bought some plain sheets and continued the story from where I had left it at home.

I could finish almost more that 70% of the novel. I came home tired and found to my dismay that my mother took ill and was to be hospitalised immediately.

I stayed with her in the nursing home. While she was resting I continued writing from where I had left off.

There was this horrifying moment when some machine wired to my mother’s body started beep beep and the reading slowly started waning. It was like what I used to see in the movies. The patient is on the bed, the beep beep reduces and dies and the patient also collapses.

I got very scared. It was past 12 midnight. I rushed searching for the duty doctor. He came running and checked my mother. He said she is ok, but the machine is not ok. I didn’t know whether to get angry or feel relieved.

I could then peacefully finish the novel. I had applied leave since my mother was still in the nursing home. I requested my sister to take care of my mother for some time and then went to the newspaper office.

I handed over the novel and it got started from the third day. Of course, there was publicity on the first page for 2 days.

Wow, really a nice way to write the second novel!!!!

Invitation to Danger

Have I mentioned earlier that I have written 17novels? Yeah, I may have mentioned. I am an awful repeater, you see!

Variety is the spice of life – a well-known phrase. I have been in sales for quite a long time in my professional life except for 5 years in design department.

Everyday some new challenge and some new boredom too!

This way, 30 years of my professional life is spent.

Somewhere in 1994 my first novel came out. It was an idea given by my friend Saravana Kumar. He told in a few sentences. I developed into a novel.

It was called Aapatthige Aahvaana. In simple English, it is Invitation to Danger!

A science theme little ahead of1995. A scientist Sajeev, his wife Mona and daughter Soni are travelling to Delhi from Bangalore. Dr. Sajeev has got a national award, the highest one for an Indian Scientist, Vijnaansree award.

The wife and daughter are in train waiting for the husband.  The doctor has been called by his boss to meet him in the office on an urgent matter.

When the doctor goes there, he finds that the call was a hoax one.

Someone comes and takes away the daughter.

A rowdy will sit next to the wife in the train.

An American who was working with Sajeev in the U S of A would demand for all the research carried out by Sajeev. If he fails to handover, then the daughter will die in Bangalore. The wife would be killed on the way to Delhi.

If he hands over the research papers, then wife would be safely reaching Delhi. Himself and his daughter would be sent by flight to Delhi just in time to attend the award receiving function.

This is the plot.

The story runs in 5 tracks. One of the wife, one of the husband and the third one of the daughter. One each for the villains and the police.

The whole story runs for 36 hours!

Each hour is a chapter.

Finally, during climax the novel has every minute as a chapter. Because the whole story runs on precision timing.

The story was serialised with a week’s publicity in the famous Kannada daily of Karnataka, Kannada Prabha.

The assistant editor the late Mr. Ramakanth was keen on developing new writers and I was groomed by him. In fact, he took another bold stand about which I shall definitely let you know in the next few days. 

Come to think of it, I can even make a series called ‘people who are influential in my life’ can be written. Many people have lent their hands and heart to shape me up to this level.

Wow, this is a great idea.

So, you readers will have another ‘invitation to danger’!

Deutsche language

It was 1991 I think. I was keen to reduce some of my excess weight. As luck would have it, my office timing was 8 am to 4.30 pm. I went and played Badminton in the office grounds. It was fun to play the game with my colleagues. But fate had some other things in store!

I was transferred to Heavy Motors Engineering department. I was to design heavy motors. From large motors to Heavy motors was in a way improvement!

Then came the other interesting thing as far as the job is concerned and not so happy news as far as my badminton is concerned.  There were hush hush information that I will be part of the team which is going to Germany’s Dusseldorf to visit and get trained in AEG factory on the German motor designs. So, the basic thing was to learn the German language. The classes were at 6 pm. So, I had to leave the office by 4.30 pm to go to Goethe Institute from my office at Yeshwanthpur.

Badminton was tossed out of my routine and I had to embrace learning of Deutsche, I mean German language.

I started going to the classes on the scooter with my colleague Saravana Kumar.

We had a frequency match. So it was fun even going to the classes.

On the first day, to our dismay, we found that our classmates were very young! A good number of 10^th standard girls!

We had a Frau. Prabha Prabhu. The first day was totally chaotic! She came and started talking to us in Greek and Latin (I mean German! For us even German was a foreign language then!).

Ich heissa Prabha Prabhu. Wie heisen sie? She asked. After a little confusion, we felt that we need to reply in the same way. Ich heissa Yathiraj. Wie heisen sie?

That is the way to learn a new language. We have to think in the same language. Denken sie im Deutsche, nicht denken sie in English.

Think in German, don’t think in English was the first lesson we had.

Then came Frau Maya Krishnamurthy. She was half Indian and half German. We enjoyed her classes. I even now remember when one girl (Leena I think) asked Frau K, Ma’am, what is for I love you in German?

I was her neighbour. I uttered softly ich lieba dich. She didn’t feel that I could know that. Again she asked Frau K. she pointed her finger towards me!

I was referring to a Hindi song’s line… !

I was quite loud in the class. Teacher used to break a piece from her chalk and used to throw at me!

I passed out Grundstuffe Eins (Ground stuff one), in other words, LKG in German. Do you know? Kinder Garten what we use for KG classes means Children’s garden?

Frau K was so surprised that I passed. She was sure I won’t be able to speak in German! But I did quite well!!

Then I joined G2. We had a teacher Mr. Argekar. He had commented on the first day of the class that the only voice he did not hear was mine from G1 class! What he meant was I was quite a boisterous person.

I am a Leo and a loud one at that!

As time has passed, as I have grown old, I have toned down my voice, my quick wit and glib tongue.

After all, the mantel has to be passed on to a younger person.

Right?

Auf wieder sehen!

Posing

Which is good? Posing for a photograph or taking photograph? Very difficult question to answer for a photographer! If one is not a photographer, then he can always pose for the photo. If it is a photographer, he/she always likes to have his/her work to be published.

I am a photographer. But I don’t have a professional camera. I remember taking black & white photos using my father’s box camera. He had taken very good photos of our tour of South India, Nagpur and Delhi during 1964 and 1967 respectively.

Later I used Diana and Debonair – both are greyish ‘aim and shoot’ camera. I made my parents, sisters, cousins and friends to pose for me. It was somewhere in 1975.

My brother in law gave me a Yashica camera which I used during my visits to Jammu and Kashmir in 1987 and Kodaikanal in 1988 and many one day local trips.

My friend took it to his home and returned. It never worked againL

When I was in Muscat in 2002, I bought a Canon camera. It was used during 2003 to capture my nostalgia of a year. I brought it home. But by then, the digital camera had taken the ruling.

Printing a black and white photo was also equally costly those days. Bromide paper printing was expensive.

The other problem was, we were not knowing whether the photo has been taken properly or whether we need a reshoot. Imagine coming all the way from Kashmir and finding out that the photos are out of focus!

Benq worked for some time. But my kids were very young and enthusiastic. The camera found its ‘end’ very fast!

One day my daughter said, ‘I want a camera tomorrow as I have an ethnic day celebration in the college’.

Now I had no choice. I purchased a Canon camera with zoom and the works. Not very costly but not cheap as well!

The camera did great. It traveled with us to South India and many local trips. As usual the camera was (ab) (mis) used by my children. The camera never opened when the button was pressed! Of course, both of them (the kids) never agree that they are responsible for the damage.

A long pending trip to Shimla came up. I had promised my wife Usha 25 years ago that I will take her to see snow. I had to purchase a camera.

Rajesh, my colleague, is a special expert on cameras among many other gadgets! He suggested a Panasonic camera which could fit into my packet and pocket!

The camera traveled with us to Shimla and Chandigarh. It is traveling with me to office every day. Not that I would take photos always. But still...

My Samsung Galaxy S mobile itself is good enough to take sharp photos. I try to capture many odd things while waiting for my office cab.

Why the case of photos was taken up today? Yeah, there is a reason. Though I was not very keen on posing for photos since childhood, I have found a big number of my photos. I have kept uploading these on my face book page. People are saying they are good. For me the photos bring old memories.

Aim and shoot! Click!!

Places

I was just thinking how many places I have visited in each State. My god! Quite an interesting list I should say! These places I have stayed more than 15 hours and explored the places.

Let me take my dear own Karnataka State to begin with. Bangalore (J), Mysore, Mandya, Madikeri, Chamarajanagara, Srirangapatna, Channapatna, Ramanagara, Maddur. I have visited Belgaum, Khanapura, Bagalkot, Bijapura, Davanagere, Shimoga, Alnavar, Dharwad-Hubli, Jog, Mangalore, Kundapura, Sirsi, Udupi, Kumata. Chikmagalore, Balehonnur, Basarikatte, Handi, Kushalnagar.I can reel off what I did in each of the places.

Tamil Nadu : Trichy, Tanjore, Madurai, Srivilliputtur, Chennai, Tenkasi, Kanyakumari, Cheyyar, Coimbatore, Valparai ( a lovely hill station where I was stationed for months together during 1995-99), Neyveli.  Kodaicanal, Ooty, Coonoor

Kerala : Cochin, Trivandrum ( I had been to Thumba Rocket Launching Station), Trichur, Guruvayoor.

Andhra Pradesh : Tirupati, Chittoor, Kadapa, Guntur, Warangal (Kakatiya Temple), Karimnagar, Adilabad, oh yes Mantralaya, Vijayawada ( I must have spent more than 2 months here!), Khammam, Vizag, Vijayanagaram, Srikakulam, Samalkota and Kakinada. Ananthapur also I have visited. Of course, Hyderabad!

West Bengal : ooh, only Calcutta

Uttar Pradesh : Lucknow, Varanasi, Saranath

Chandigarh : Chandigarh, Ambala

HP : Simla and Shimla L

MP : Singrouli coal mines, Satna, Bhopal

Maharashtra : Mumbai, Pune

Pondicherry

J&K : Jammu Tawi and Srinagar

Gujarat, the seven sisters, Goa not at all visited.

Germany : only Frankfurt AirportJ

USA : Atlantic City, Washington DC, New York, Virginia

Middle East : Muscat, Dubai and Abu Dhabi

Looks like I have covered many places in the world. Well ,there are many more to visit.

I am eager to visit Venice. I don’t know how is today. But I want to visit before I dieL

I have seen Indians in all places. Yes, even in Frankfurt!

Today’s subject is places. So be it!

Saga of my travels

I have visited many places in India. Some by design. Some others by chance. My jobs took me to various places. Today, if I just think of the places I have visited, I am really surprised!

I was a wanderer. My father had taken me to Trichy, Tanjore, Madurai, Rameshwaram, Tenkasi, Srivilliputtur one time.

Another time to Nagpur. We went to Delhi another time. Saw Qutub Minar. I went up the first floor too.

But the first big real travel happened when I was in the fifth and final year of Engineering.

During the fourth year I visited Jog falls. Not just the falls, but the two hydroelectric power stations. The MGHE which had horizontal turbines built somewhere in the valley and the AB Site which has 10 vertical generators.

We planned to go round India during our final year engineering. We started in February 1979 which makes me 22 year old then.

The route was Madras (Chennai is today’s name), Calcutta (Kolkata), Varanasi, Chandigarh, Simla, Dehradun, Hardwar, Rishikesh, Delhi, Jaipur, Agra, Bhopal, Bombay, Hyderabad and back.

Very interesting tour. We had all types of weathers and variety of places.

In Madras we saw a factory in Manali and visited the ship Nankowri which was going to Andamans. We visited Doordarshan studios. Here I picked up the habit of drinking sweet lassi.

Next day morning we left in Coromandel Express for Calcutta. We saw Bhubhaneshwar station, Vizag station on the way. We saw the longest railway platform in Kharagpur.

Calcutta was most confusing. To come out of the Howrah station was tough. We saw the road opening in the harbor (for a ship), we slept through the narration about universe in the Birla Planetarium, searched for South Indian food, visited Esplanade, saw Howrah bridge, Victoria Memorial (from a distance)

We left for Varanasi from there. Varanasi was full of crowd. We went to the banks of River Ganga and hired a boat and went some distance on the river and then took a dip in the river. Here the water was somewhat cleaner than at the banks. We could see a dead body floating next to us, well, a common scene in Varanasi I believe.

We reached Lucknow. For the first time at the thickest curd I had ever even seen! We visited Bhool Bhulaiyya- an architectural wonder. So many doors, walls, underground cellars... unbelievable! I remembered the song of Bobby.. tere nainonki bhool bhulaiyya mein bobby kho jaaye... we really get lost in the maze of wonderful building!

We hired a bogie and locked the doors. People were bombarding on the door. We never opened even the windows. We just let the window open to a small crack and bought puris and aloo sabji. I started having hiccups. No water was available. I finally boldly drank from the tap in the toilet. All my classmates observed me for 10 minutes, found that I did not ‘die’ and then rushed to drink the same water!

The saga of tour could continue tomorrow. So watch out!

Kashmir yatra!

When I was uploading a photograph of our Kashmir tour I remembered our Kashmir tour. It seems long ago, way back in the month of September, 1987. But some of the memories are still fresh.

I was married to Usha on 2^nd February 1987. We had no time for a long trip. We went to Chikmagalur for a short trip. My close friends Shankaraiah (now Shankar Sharma) and T R V Prasanna were married respectively during October 1985 and August 1984. They had not gone out to any specific tour except where their jobs took them.

We decided to go to J&K. At that time, Prasanna, Rathna and the kid Prarthana were in Nasik. So myself, Usha, Shankar and his wife Sandhya left from Bangalore and reached Nasik. We spent a day visiting the city. We visited the TryambakeshwarTemple on the banks of river Godavari. The next day we left for Ellora caves. Visited Ghrishneswar in Ellora. There is a monolithic temple of Kailashnath. From there we went to Aurangabad, where we visited the tombstone of Auragzeb’s wife. Then to the Ajanta Caves. The Waghure river flowing in the middle of the caves looks amazing. The whole set of caves were the hideout of Buddhists once upon a time. There was this University as well.

The next day all the three pairs along with the kid Prarthana left for Delhi. From Delhi we were supposed to take a night train which reached Jammu Tawi next day morning. The train came very late – 9 hours late. So, our program got topsy turvy. We had to travel sitting and reach Jammu Tawi in the night. Brrr .. it was very cold. We finally could get a dormitory which housed all of us during the night.

The next day morning we went in search of a friend of my sister’s sister-in-law. Just to book our return tickets for us. There was no internet booking those days. Hence we had to resort to such methods!

We took a bus at 9 am to Srinagar. The bus went on and on along a gorge on one side, hill on the other side. Really horrifyingly beautiful! There was this 2 ½ km tunnel to pass through. Finally at 8 pm we reached Srinagar.

We went on the Dal lake in darkness. We could hear the squeals of our respective wives. We settled in a wooden hotel on the other side. (Elegant, I think is the name of the hotel)

It was fruits and flowers season in Srinagar. We could see the UN police taking care of any likely unrest. In fact, Srinagar was very peaceful. The route to Jammu from Delhi wasn’t. it was the time when Punjab was burning and lot of deaths were taking place for some reason or the other.

We went to Gulmarg on the first day. Our food was biscuits and fruits. We travelled in the ropeway (with benches!) in such a height that it was very scary. The route where Joy Mukherjee sang for Asha Parekh (Pukar ta chala hoon main) and Dr. Raj singing ‘naa benkiyanthe’ in double role were on the same road!

The next day was Sona Marg. The route was tedious and tiring. Only Shankar could go up the hill to see the glacier. I went to the foothill and Prasanna was the bodyguard for the ladies and the kid.

Third day was Pahalgaon. Very picturesque village. If you have seen the Rajesh Khanna Mumtaz movie Roti, you would have seen it.

Fourth day the local garden visit. Chashmeshahi had the mineral water spring (first time ever I had seen a mineral water spring). Then Nishat Bagh where we dressed up as Kashmiris to take photos. Shalimar Garden must have been shot in many many Hindi movies. I remember only Saathi Vyjantimala and Rajendrakumar... mera pyar bhi tu hai.. ye bahar bhi tu hai.. We saw the light and sound show.

The next day was to Jammu Tawi. That narration later!

Will this ever improve?

I feel like reacting violently to some of the unfair situations which occur around me. But is it something rare? Am I the only one or are there some more people like me who can’t stand the injustice and can’t do anything due to the fact that the system is like that?

I am a writer in Kannada. I have tried to put some sentences, situations which call for someone to take up at least some amount of scavenging.

In fact, I have thought of writing a full time Utopian novel on these situations. Why I call it Utopian? It is because the solution what I propose will never happen with the present setup.

Take for example what happened the other day in one of the Nationalised Banks. On a Saturday, My son was trying to get a PIN number for bank transaction through internet. I was watching him moving from pillar to post. I asked my son what was the problem. There was this man sitting in front of the Manager. He came to the door and told my son come on Monday.

That was the moment I blew my top. My voice rose without my knowledge. Are you playing? My son goes to work between 8 am and 11 pm on weekdays. Except Saturday, he is not able to come on other days. And you expect him to come on Monday?

The madam, who was sending my son the manager (and the manager was sending him to the madam all this time), rose and came in a hurry to the manager’s cabin to pick some paper which was to be given to my son.

The manager also exclaimed, ‘Why don’t you keep this with you? Otherwise, people start coming to me’. This made me raise my voice again. ‘Why are you sitting there? If your staff does not give us what we want and on time, I will come to you’.

I could see a lot of heads nodding with approval. The best was my son’s reaction. He was very much against me talking loudly to the officials in many places. Well, it was not his job then. Now, when he was cornered, he welcomed my action. He said, ‘These government people deserve this type of treatment’.

No ... no, I hate this. Why can’t people do their jobs without someone poking at them? Especially, when they are sitting in a place where they are called public servants.

Sad state of affairs!

A few acci(inci)dents!!!!

I want to tell about a few interesting inci(acci)dents which happened during my stay in Muscat in the Sultanate of Oman.

I went during June 2002. It was the hottest time. Temperature was 45 Deg C at 8.30 pm!  I was about 74 kgs heavy when I went to Muscat. I had lost 4 kgs. Between receipt of my appointment letter and VISA  thinking and thinking that ‘Oh God! I won’t be able to see my family for one full year’. I had even ‘warned’ my mother ‘don’t you dare to fall sick in between. I can’t come’! She had just smiled.

I had no driving license, I mean the International one. So, I had to depend on the Taxi. That too the point to point Taxi. Mine being a private firm, was very strict about spend on the travel. I could take a taxi from one point to another in the main road. I was not supposed to hire a taxi for myself to get dropped in the doorstep. The heat, the loneliness and the excessive walking made me get melted like butter. It was almost like a frozen butter put in the hot sun!

Sometimes my colleagues who had the car used to pick me up, but that was rare.

I had a mental block to even learn car driving. Can you believe it? Someone told me ‘beware, while you drive a car!’ That’s it. I was not able to take up the driving classes. But it was inevitable to drive if I have to survive in Muscat, especially being a sales person.

So the torture commenced.  I went on failing and failing.

There was this drum test. I had to reverse the car inside a set of drums without touching the drums. Then the slope test. Balance between the clutch and the brakes and when the light turns green I was supposed to drive to the front without slipping back on the slope. The third toughest road test. There were about 5 or 6 test arenas. I was trained in all those places. Finally after 9 attempts, I could pass out the test! I got an international license.

I was not given a car for about three months. The reason is, if I meet up with an accident, my license would be confiscated. So, after 3 months, when m y colleague went out of station, I got a Mazda 323.

The very first day I was reversing the car and hit the next car, a Land Cruiser! The Royal Omani Police (ROP) came and took away my licence and asked me to go the police station to collect the same. It was the most boring morning. I decided not to commit any mistake on the road again.

Another time I was going very fast and I forgot the handbrakes while on the down gradient road. The car jumped up, crossed a few boulders and hit a compound. Some Indians came out of the villa and asked me to sit in the car, apply reverse gear. They literally lifted the car and put it back on the road.

Another time I was reversing and trying to adjust the seat. I was saved by the wooden plank which stopped me. Otherwise there was a 6 meter deep gorge dug for a new building!

Another time the right side mirror was damaged for being close to a gate of an office.

When I was turning to the right on to the main road, the Volvo bus driver switched on the lights. In that country if someone dips and dims the light, it means he is giving us permission to proceed (the same is reverse in India!)

It was getting dark and the bus guy had switched on the light and I misread him! He came so close to my car that the backside of the bus hit my left mirror on the same side where I was sitting to drive. (left hand drive cars and driving on the right side of the road)

The breaking of the mirror made a horrible noise and the driver stopped the bus and shouted at me. I looked at him. A Pakistani! Ah, another ex-pat! I had no fear now. I put my car’s hazard light and walked to him and told ‘I thought you gave me the way’. He was also trembling. He called me a mad man. I had no care for his words.

Well, I had (and got) hit in the front, back, sides of the car. Then I was very careful!!!!!

Promises and maintaining

It is so easy to start and it is so difficult to maintain. This is something which I learned today!

I met my friend Ramachandran who is called Bunty by his family. We were working together in a company way back in 1999. We were together for an year I think. We travelled together and spent time together in the office too.

We vibe with some people very well. We have a sort of frequency match. There is one incident which I would like to mention here.

I was preparing a note on hospital management software to be made as a leaflet. I went on putting my ideas together and when I felt that my fingers can’t take any more of typing work (on a pc of course!) I wrote for fun… ah, so far so good! .. and saved the file and got up.

Bunty, who had gone out somewhere, just then entered. I was telling him that I finished writing the material for leaflet.

He asked me ‘so far so good…?’

I was stunned. I took him to the computer and showed him what I had written in the end of my article. He smiled. This is just one of the incidents.

He is fun, he is a pun-dit. Yes, he can make pun out of anything. When I mentioned about another friend’s father being admitted to Wockhardt hospital for heart surgery, he quipped “undedhe okka haartu, I hope the hospital knows it!”

It was in Telugu. The meaning runs like this… all we have is one heart. Wockhardt had been ‘punned’ as okka haartu. Wow, hats off to him!

He used to come to our home at least one Sunday in two months. He generally went to Vidyarthi Bhavan in Gandhi Bazaar and brought their specialty Masala dosa. Two for each of us. Those days even my mother was alive. So, the count of the dosas would be 12!

Usha, my wife, used to prepare Puliyogare. She was (still is) an expert in preparing the same.

We used to talk all shop because I had moved on to some other job. It would be the best 3 hours we spent.

Later I somehow did not make it. I came to know that he was not well. By the way, he is not married.

Whenever there was a call from him, I used to say, ‘you see, it is difficult to come. But I would love to come’ but never went.

Today, I made it a point to go. Same old Bunty. Same fun. It was as if there was no gap of time between two times we visited. But time has passed. I lost my mother about 1 ½ years ago and he about 6 months ago.

I should go again. Like I said, promising is easy and maintaining the promise is very difficult!

My Word! The Cat & Mouse Game - 1

His eyes narrowed suddenly as he was watching the moving pictures on the Television screen. Immediately he shouted at the top of his voice “Himalay!”

But like other days, Himalay did not come at the very moment. This made him more irritated. The silver capped lead pencil slipped from his hand. The newspaper of the day which was on his lap hit the ground.

“Drat!” he cursed with anger seething inside.

The eyes again got locked on the television screen.

The brown mouse had hoodwinked the grey tomcat. This is unbearable for him any day.

He had told his personal assistant Himalay that each video should stop at a specific point. But today, the mouse had overtaken the cat!

“Did you call me sir?” then said the 32 year old young man with a lot of obedience.

He opened his mouth to scold him, but somehow the heart did not comply. Hey, what’s happening? His mind is the one which rules his heart. What is happening today?

Why today? Every day when he sees Himalay, it is almost like watching himself in the mirror. Was I like this in that age?

“Himalay! How many times have I told you this? You know very well that in the Tom & Jerry videos which I watch should contain the victory of Tom? Have I not bought the required software to do the editing the way I want? Why did you play the video with Jerry winning?” He growled.

“Sorry Sir, I did not know. I will use the latest software and edit the same” said Himalay and turned to the other side. Now there was a sarcastic smile on his lips. But the boss did not see it.

The servant Ramdeen came silently and picked the silver capped pencil and the day’s newspaper from the ground and kept it on the 4 elephant faced, Belgium glass having rosewood teepoy.

Again the boss started filling the day’s crossword puzzles using the pencil.

Those two are his weaknesses! 

Tom & Jerry Cartoon and the crossword puzzle. He was an expert in filling up crossword puzzle.

“Sir!” he was greatly disturbed by Himalay’s voice. He was busy in trying to find the clue. Intolerance was dancing in his eyes.

“Balabhadra has come” Himalay said looking outside the window.

“Who..” he started and immediately realized “oh, the new Police commissioner! Let us meet him” he said emitting a smile by twisting his lips.

“Hello Mr. Agnimitra! I am Balabhadra” said the police commissioner coming forward and placing his right hand in the extended hand of Agnimitra (AM). AM pressed the commissioner’s hand which was in his grip. His crossword puzzle and the TV remote control were now kept on the teepoy.

The servant Ramdeen who was wiping the invisible dust from the huge sized Padmapani picture from Ajanta Caves, came stealthily near the teepoy, removed a white envelop from his clean white towel tied to his waist. He placed the envelope on the newspaper and removed himself like a cat and went back to the cleaning chore.

He felt no one has seen his deed. But a pair of eyes had seen this! The eyes had also seen that the envelop had one name on it - ‘Mr. Agnimitra’.