Monthly Archives: September 2011

… the last time I died !

the last time i died

... the last time I died !

Staring at the endless road on a sunny afternoon, I knew it was a journey I ought to travel ! Crowds passed and I almost felt invisible in that chaos !

I could feel the blood oozing out of my slit neck. It didn’t hurt as much as being neglected on a crowded road where people were getting disturbed, not by the man dying right in front of their eyes, but by an unwanted man taking up space on the road on a busy day !

It hurt me to realize that I wasn’t dead yet. But just then, someone lent me a hand to help. She was wearing whites as clean and clear as her eyes. Her lips matched the color of my blood ! I cannot recall much about her features because…well.. I was about to die you know !

Her whites now turned into shades of dark red. Even as my blood splattered all over her face, her face seemed like she was searching for something precious she had just lost ! I wondered if I already died and whether she was trying to find my soul !!! Yeah… something lame like that !!!

As she held my hand tight to lift me, I started changing my strange notions about Yamraj which was mainly influenced by TV serials and inane comic flicks. I wondered if the Ugly fat moustached Yamraj is no more and this stunner of a Yamrani has replaced him for the same post ! She’s her. She’s going to take me to heaven or hell or Uganda or whatever they call it !

This poor dying man was about to smile, but she dragged the dying man’s (which is me…!) hand and bent to take a cauliflower which was lying beside me. That’s when it struck me that she was more into that cauliflower than me ! She picked it up and left a dying man lying in the middle of a crowded road.

It again started to hurt me as I realized that I wasn’t dead yet !

By now, you would’ve realized that it was all a dream ! But my realization was due !

All I craved for was a connection between the real world and the dream. Haven’t you felt it ? You’re falling from a tall building or a mountain but just before you touch the ground, you get up with a strong thrust ! Or when you’re being chased by wolves or wolverines, you tend to be all sweaty when you’re back to the real world ! One time, I was eating a snake and when I woke up, I was chewing on my cell phone’s cable…!

All I wanted now was that connection. I am dying. There’s no cliff. There’s no snake. There are no wolves or wolverines. My subconscious knew I was getting late for office. There was no one else in the house to wake me up. I was all alone. All I wanted now was something to happen to me so that I can bloody get up and get ready for work.

But no, I saw nothing in that chaos that could be of my help. I struggled there, lying on the road. I hit my head on a boulder that was left there just next to me. I rapidly moved my limbs hoping for that one single connection.  That ray of hope. That mountain or that snake or wolves.

Just then. She came back. She now held a hanger in her tender hands. As I was about to wonder what the hell she was trying to do to me with that hanger, she poked me with it and pressed hard against my bleeding neck. It hurt more, but I loved the pain as that new-age Cinderella was causing it to me. But enough is enough, she’s trying to torture me. This is worse than the pain of dying. I struggled to resist her and tried to make myself free of that hanger. Oh, the bliss. I opened my eyes. I woke up !

The connection was successfully established. As I looked around, I held a hanger in my left hand. There was a bag full of vegetables next to me which I had purchased the previous night. There was a Cauliflower lying on the ground. It took me less than a few seconds to finally realize that I had fallen asleep on the bed with my shoes on, with my back pack lying next to me on one side. The bag with vegetables on the other. Helmet lying next to my pillow.

There you go… that was the last time I died !

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The Chetak Diaries – Part II, Year 1998 !!!

The Chetak Diaries - Part II

The Chetak Diaries - Part II

Scene 1: He took an elaborate drag and smoked out a big cloud of smoke. Something he spoke to his friend cut that cloud of smoke and pierced all the way through as we stood a little ahead in that bus stop. We three of us abruptly stopped talking about inane things at school and heard him. “There’s a nice scene in that… They will make out in the car… They show their hands like never before… every single finger of the hero is between the fingers of the heroine in that car..! There’s so much of heat that the car is filled with steam !!!”

“What are you saying… they have not cut out the scene from the theaters  ? Papers said the movie has been running since almost a year…! I have not seen yet” said his friend, also smoking a beedi.

We three school kids stared at each other in awe and we knew what to do next. We dumped all kinds of discussions about school and the new girl in the class we individually admired but collectively hated ! We now brainstormed as to how to get our parents to take us to watch that new movie. After around half an hour of brainstorming in the bus-stop, one of us had a valid doubt. He said “Oye… But what is the name of the movie ?”

We made our way through that cloud of smoke like three musketeers, with backpacks and water bottles. “Uncle, what is the name of that movie ?” I asked to the shocked and stiff look of that beedi guy. Beedi guy, part 2 also gave a stare like his guru ! Then both of them smiled a little wickedly and pointed at a wall which had a poster of a boy, just a few years older than us, resting his chin over the neck of a beautiful lady who looked much older to that boy. There was a Giant ship which took up the rest of the poster. Now we knew 🙂 !!!

Scene 2: “Appa, we have an assignment for this week. For the Monday’s class, we have to write an essay and it has to be based on a movie.” I said to my father while he washed his  Chetak.

“What ? What kind of assignment is that. Stop cooking up stuff and go back inside” he groaned.

“No no Appa, really. Social Studies teacher has given that assignment. We have to watch a foreign language movie and write 500 words about it. Its an essay question Appa. She did not write the question on the board. Or else I would have showed you. We have to write about the countries, rivers, oceans, era and the kind of culture they had. Its for History and Geography together.”

His angered look was now somewhat turning into a suspicious look, he continued washing his Chetak without saying anything for the next 45 seconds. Yes, every second counts when the conversation is with your father ! “OK, sounds good. I will play a couple of movies from the collection of movies I have on video tape. You can select between Chaplin, Laurel & Hardy or wait, you liked that Honey, I Shrunk the kids; you can choose whichever you want out of the three.”

Oh Boooogers ! That, I DID NOT expect. Chaplin ??? Come on. What am I… Eleven ? I was Twelve now. Not a kid anymore. I had to give a final try so I hurriedly ran inside and got my notebook. Showing my notebook, I gave my final try “Appa, the teacher suggested that we watch this movie for the assignment.”

He looked at the book and said “This ? We already saw that 2 months back. You slept throughout the movie. You had slept even before we entered the cinema hall and never woke up till the last 15 minutes. Don’t you remember ? Watch some other movie from the video collection we have at home”

WHAT ??? I spun around my world for the last several hours trying to convince him to take me to a movie, which I had already been to !!! I would actually be banned in class if I ever mention that I slept through this movie and missed the car scene ! I swore to not tell them, ever !

“You said Social Studies assignment right ? Then why have you written the name of the movie in Art and Crafts book ?” he asked while he pointed his sharp sight right to my eyes which was a signal that I better answer fast or I would be run over by his Chetak !

“I had forgotten my Social Studies notebook Appa. And Crafts book is anyway always empty. So I used it” and then I added my punch-line with an extra-powerful sympathetic look “don’t you trust me Appa ?” End of Discussion/Suspicion !

Scene 3: “Jack, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls” the heroine says “Wearing this” as she points to a stunning big diamond necklace.

“Alright” says that boy as he explores that diamond.

And then she adds to it with a heavy whisper, but loud and clear “Wearing ONLY this !” and then the stupid boy finally looks at her, and his pupils dilate a little !

I would have whistled if my dad wasn’t sitting next to me in a fully packed Cinema hall ! At least, I would have just howled like a wolf, because whistling is something I was yet to learn then. (And yet to learn now !!!) But I stayed shut and watched in awe ! But the next thing I see, scene is over ! Damn. All they showed was a little of the sketching that he scribbled, and even that, in just parts !

A lot of other things happened later and they had now entered a dark place with full of cars and other heavy shipments !! I was sure the beedi guy was referring to THIS ! The Car scene was about to start ! They enter the car, they get so close that the boy is almost breathing the leftover breath of the gorgeous Aunty ! And the frame immediately changes to their hands hitting on the steamy rear glass of the car and in no time they’re running around the ship and the glacier hits the damn ship !!! That’s it ? You kidding me ??? Anyway, Good. This stupid ship deserves to sink ! Or the people who have managed to cut all the critical scenes deserve to be hit by that glacier !

Scene 4: As we were riding back in our Bajaj Chetak, I felt a sense of pride that I had achieved something ! I started to like the movie bit by bit as I tried to recall the good scenes like the one with dolphins swimming with the majestic ship. Felt the same heavy breeze against my face as my father rode the Chetak, I was waving my arms all around just like the boy and the aunty did on the tip of their Ship…! My dad’s Chetak was good enough for me. At least it won’t sink !

Bamm!!! Before I could realize what happened my right hand had hit a van and I fell out of the scooter. No idea what happened after that. Hours after, I woke up in a Satan’s Den, which was otherwise referred as a Clinic. My hands were plastered.  I had got my First Fracture ! Appa was staring at me with THAT look ! Oh damn. I turn around and there she is. Even mom had turned up out of nowhere ! I am as good as a dead rat now ! Anyway, this phase will soon pass and I might get my share of sympathy ice cream, or so I wished !

As usual, I sat sandwiched between Appa and Amma in the scooter. Appa said “You can’t write the assignment now. I will come speak to your teacher tomorrow at school that you couldn’t write the essay because of the fractured hand. Or I will tell her to ask you the Historical and Geographical details you observed in the movie. You can answer orally. She’ll understand ! Don’t worry. Sit tight without moving now”. I have a strong feeling he said that with a wicked smile,  which I obviously couldn’t see !

Oh Crap !

End of Part II

This entry is a part of the contest at in association with

BlogJunta - An ode to the Blogosphere

Junta of the Month

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The Chetak Diaries : Part – I, Year 1994 !!!

The Chetak Diaries, Kishore On Shore

The Chetak Diaries

Battle of Haldighati has found an eternal place in World History for the epitome of Bravery and Chivalry displayed by the Rajput Emperor Pratap Singh Mewar, mostly referred to as Maharana Pratap. A major chunk of the credit, as per the legends go, goes to his extraordinary horse Chetak.

In our school, we had a poem in Hindi and just a couple of lines in it would describe Chetak quite conveniently. This is how it goes:

Aage nadiya padi apaar….  ghoda kaise utaare paar !

Rana ne socha iss paar…. tab tak chetak tha uss paar !!!!

That’s how legendary Maharana Pratap’s Chetak was. Now, there are a million Chetaks and each have their own Legends ! Many still ride it with the same fervor while others just park it in their garage hoping it to turn into an Antique model soon, which I believe will take at least another couple of decades ! It was Maharana Pratap’s Chetak then, and now it’s Bajaj’s Chetak !

I was crying bloody murder as I had smashed my head on a window and a piece of the metal had pierced into my forehead ! As if the wound wasn’t hurting enough, I had to get loads of my mom’s evergreen and ever-effective look “get-well-soon-and-you-will-get-a-real-handful-from-me” !!! She yelled, screamed and did a million other things simultaneously as she hurriedly dragged me to the nearest clinic (which was again like a million kilometers far, keeping in mind the current situation). She “requested” the others waiting outside the clinic to allow her  “immediately” to take her son to see the doctor. Probably she dared anyone to stop her from doing so just by her “look” ! A couple of gentlemen out there made way and offered to carry me, but she held me so tight that it wasn’t the wound hurting anymore. We were now inside the doctor’s dungeon ! The Hell… and The Satan with a rubber pipe hanging around his neck !

I had probably stopped crying by then just to dial down the frenzy, so that the stupid doctor doesn’t take any drastic decisions like Syringes and Stitches ! I knew, because it obviously wasn’t the first time !

The doctor checked the fresh wound quickly and comforted my mother that it’s nothing serious, and that there was nothing to worry. Probably this is when she loosened the way she was holding my hands and I could see a tiny drop of tear somewhere around her eyes. It could have been just a sweat bead ( NO.. it wasn’t). Being the Attention Mongering Moron that I am (yes.. since then), I started to dial up the tone of crying just so that they know that the wound is not really that simple. It was huge and it was bleeding and hurting and everything !

“He’ll just need a couple of stitches and he’ll be perfectly fine” said the Satan and I witnessed my worst nightmares unraveling itself right in front of my eyes.  I damned myself for over-doing the dial-up and dial-down of the theatrics. Just then, he went in somewhere to get his torture weapons, and I looked at my mom. I managed to give the cutest look like a little wounded puppy with sagging eyebrows and was just about to say something but the devil was back by then. Mom had got what I was about to say, so she asked the doctor “Doctor, he gets very upset by syringes.  Please make sure it doesn’t hurt.” and then she looked at me and continued ” We will have ice cream after this…!” I was shocked, who said anything about syringes. He was only about to stitch the wound. Why is she giving ideas to the devil…! Only later did I realize, that the torture has to start with the syringe so that the torture with the needle wouldn’t hurt much…! What an irony !!! Doctors are supposed to be intelligent I thought !

All this while I had kind of managed to forget about crying, but when he took out that syringe, I beat my own record in crying. I am sure the birds’ family on the tree outside the clinic got relocated somewhere else… immediately ! I don’t remember what happened after that, but when I woke up, there was a big, heavy load of cotton and all that bandage stuff stuffed on my wound ! It wasn’t hurting anymore, but why take attention off my wound ??! So, I just made some sympathy sounds now and then, to retain the attention ! Before I could strangle the devil with his own rubber pipe that was hanging around his neck, mom was taking me outside the cabin. For some reason, she made me sit outside in the waiting lounge again !

Thoughts of the traumatic last few minutes flashed in my mind again, and I wondered if I have to go through all of that again ! I never even realized that the doctor had given me a chocolate. I didn’t want to eat that right there in the Devil’s own territory. It would have hurt my ego ! So, I hid it back in my pocket !

But, just then, that very moment, I heard a sound that made all my miseries go away in a whisker ! I forgot about the wound. I forgot about the devil and his stupid cotton factory on my forehead ! I freed myself from my mom’s hand, jumped from the couch and ran towards the gate and yes, I was right. There comes my Dad’s scooter. The green, Bajaj Chetak. My own Maharana Pratap was arriving majestically riding his Chetak ! I stood near the gate jumping like a monkey waiting to complain every single thing about every single person who made me go through that trauma.

Mom followed me and held my hand tightly again, shouting not to cross the road. Dad then crossed the road in his scooter and came right in front of us. I started yelling out some crap as I hurriedly hopped on the scooter in the space between the front seat and the back seat. There was no seat there technically, but I was always made to sit there. Mom would then sit in the backseat. I would be sandwiched between then. I loved it. I hugged my dad’s back and held him tight. Mom sat behind me as usual and somehow, she still managed to hold me tight just the way she had been doing for the last 1 hour.

That very moment, dad riding the Chetak, me hugging him tight and knowing that mom is right behind me holding me firmly, was a luxury. It was not about the wound anymore. I wished to get more wounds often so that I could get “this” much more often. Also, and more importantly, more of sympathy Ice Cream, which tastes more heavenly than the regular ice cream !!! 😛

This was not really about the scooter, but the moments that our Chetak offered to families like ours. The warmth, the comfort, the affection and in one word, Love.

End of Part I

This entry is a part of the contest at in association with

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Hamara Bajaj Trilogy – Teaser !

Did your father ever own a Bajaj Chetak scooter ? Or does he still do ??? Well… My dad does… 🙂

Watch this space as I am wrapping up a Hamara Bajaj Trilogy 🙂 🙂

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Tweeting at a Blog !

I know…. I am such a pain in the… “you know where” ! Was just wondering if I can tweet in my blog… turns out… I can… because there’s no one to STOP me.. I OWN this 😛 But at the cost of losing the couple of readers I have ? well…. I realized I anyway don’t have readers… So why Bother ?! Let me just go ahead a tweet !

“I just tweeted on my blog” !

There you go… that was my tweet !!!

PS: Just trying to increase the Blog Posts Count 😉

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