Splutter and Blubber – My Pilgrimage

Standing amongst fifty thousand people watching the band play was one thing only to be seen and experienced. Words fall short. I can not describe it in one word or a sentence.

“Awesome” is the closest I can get and to add spice to the awesome word I can equalize that with the word “Aphrodisiac”.

“Yes I am going to the concert”, is all I told Nirav when we read, “Dates are out! Metallica India gig on Oct 28, 30. The band is slated to perform on October 28 and 30 in Delhi and Bangalore respectively during their inaugural India tour.”

Bangalore was the place to be. It was decided.

That was on a hot May day when I said I was all set to head bang. And in these five months I had a lot to do… my daughter’s half yearly exams, a great summer vacation and many birthdays to attend. And then there were the unexpected hiccups… short trips … the unending rains… mugginess in the air … all to be termed simply as this that and etcetera.  

As days passed, from dry summers to the humid Monsoons there were a few more people who said they too were looking forward to attend this concert. And this would be the only topic we’d discuss during weekends – binging on grilled chicken and cooling off with Budwisers.  So it was six of us who’d finally go together. And it sounded so much fun!

And in these five months not only the excitement swelled but some people I trusted without a doubt showed that they had a nasty side too. For example there is A. An ardent Metallica enthusiast he took the responsibility to get the tickets done. At that point of time we had no clue that the tickets would be available online. He happily took the cash and till date I have not seen his face or heard his voice. But that’s one story we will continue later on.

 

The day the courier came containing the concert tickets I was thrilled… excited like a teenager who just saw her crush pass by across the street. I looked at it for a long time. Read each and every word over and over again and it took good amount of time to let that feeling sink in.

Two days before the concert we reached Bangalore. But instead of six we were four now but that did not matter. As long as we were ready to rock and roll I knew this would be an experience of a lifetime.

But a tragic thing happened on the night of 28^th Oct. We were unaware of it. It was a phone call from Lioness. She asked me to switch on the TV and just browse through any of the news channel. My heart roughly missed a beat when I learnt that the Metallica gig that was to be held in New Delhi got cancelled. There was a hell lot of mud slinging. Blame games. Angry people ransacking the stage. A near stampede. 

We were all silent. We just did not want to talk or discuss anything nasty and negative. I just whispered a silent prayer to God. All I asked him was a perfect 30^th … a Sunday I’d always cherish. But there were a thousand people propagating too may things everywhere; be it in the social networking sites, TV, elevators, malls. I just shut myself up amidst some good books, family and rum. For I know if nothing else work, rum surely does the trick!

Slowly the time was drawing nearer. And I was hoping everything would be right.

The night before the concert – it was a Saturday and I was to meet up my cousin and that planned collapsed too … well almost if I may say… we were supposed to meet at some pub over a few drinks and that was all. But he got stuck with his work and the next best thing I said was “let’s postpone our meeting.”  Meeting him was also very important to both of us as we’d see each other after twenty two years. The last time I saw him was when I was in class six and he had just cleared his twelfth. After that we have been in touch either through mails, phone calls and texts.

But the sweet fella he is, he took directions of the place we were staying and he drove 25 kms. just to see me. Meeting him after such a long time has been another experience again.

And we spent the whole night talking and sipping scotch (for a change I shifted my loyalty) by the balcony. We were so engrossed in our conversation that we did not realize slowly it was dawn! He left at 6.00 a.m in the morning.

After he left I knew I had just an hour of sleep. Nior would be soon awake and I would get busy with her. But nothing happened as I planned. Nior woke up and she never disturbed me (my sweet-heart… I don’t know how come she understands me so well)… & Nirav was awake too. Infact the entire household was up and into their own devises and the sun rays falling directly into my eyes would not let the sleep come. So I too got up and a big mug of tea was all I needed.

By noon we decided to move. I made Nior understand that I would be out for some work and that she should behave like a good girl and stay with her aunt, uncle and elder sis and also Shamima (the girl who stays with us)… and she said she would.

We met our friends at a junction and headed for Palace Grounds. There was a slight drizzle but nobody cared a bit about it. The queue was a rather long one… and this was just to step inside the Palace Grounds.

Once inside the grounds there was no queue whatsoever. But there was a heavy rush of people at one direction only and we too stood somewhere close to the massive crowd. Then we heard the guys standing infornt of us say “Gates have opened”. I cannot tell you how suffocating it was, to stand in that crowd which was swelling every moment. You really did not have to walk, you could just move as you were being pushed. At one point I thought I’d pass out. I looked into Nirav and said, “hold me as tight as you can”. And I asked one of the guys infront of me, “how long will it take us to reach the gate?” He scratched his head; pressing on to the shoulders of another guy standing infront of him he arched himself up and replied, “Roughly two meters”. Those two meters seemed an eternal journey. It took about forty five minutes to reach that two meter mark. I saw a very small “gate” through which only one person at a time could enter. The whole area was full of these huge and frightfully morose looking bouncers. Dare you create any nonsense! We walked for another few meters and there was another ordeal to be passed. This time around there were five rows. People were being frisked lest we smuggle alcohol, cigarettes, lighters and cameras. And finally…finally I could see the arena.

I looked up my watch. It was 5.00 p.m and as I looked up on the stage there was Nikhil (Chinappa)   introducing Guillotine a Delhi based band. As they took the stage it prompted a tongue-in-cheek “Delhi Sucks” chorus from the audience, the Delhi chaos and no-show still fresh in memory.

Once they wrapped up a Scottish alt-rock act Biffy Clyro's took the stage for an hour and the crowd stood expectantly in the pouring rain.My back was slowly hurting and I sat on the ground… I was lucky to be standing near the barracks. I had some clear place to sit… the rains had made the entire place slushy.

Soon they were off the stage the crowd was getting frenzy. The wait was finally over. We would see Hetfield & Co. in any minute. But to everyone’s surprise there was this man on stage giving a sermon on safety. He urged the audience in front to look to their “left”, “right” and “behind” and then take “three steps backward”.

And as obedient school children the crowd adhered to it without fuss.

At about 8.00 p.m as the band came finally took charge the whole Palace Ground got euphoric. Hysteria set it and finally it was happening. I am sure everyone present there had the same feeling like the one I had. This was it… it took them so long but they finally arrived… the wait, the pain, the rain, hunger and thirst everything was forgotten.

From CreepingDeath to For Whom The Bells Toll people sang in chorus. Nothing matter at that time. Seemed we were all one. Standing their in unison, head banging and enjoying each and every moment and soaking it all.

The LED screens behind the two storied stage and on the sides is where you could see them giant size and the fire works added sparks to the whole ambience.

And then there was the anti-war song One when a fleet of doves flew above in the dark night sky and all I could say was “they were so well trained.”

As they belted out one hit after another I could not have thanked God enough for making this so perfect for me and another few thousands too.

And as they sang Master of Puppets, Hetfield gave out that evil laugh much to everyone’s delight and there were so many like me I noticed who clutched their foreheads in utter disbelief.  

And then the time came I was waiting for… after a solo by Kirk Hammet for about fifteen minutes the music seemed familiar. Oh yeah… It was Nothing ElseMatters. The entire Palace Ground with fifty thousands metal heads singing that song was amazing. People came from every corner of the country and other parts of the world too. There were people of all ages… there were people in crutches, bandaged arms and heads too. But all were there… to see the Gods of Metal perform live. The finale was Enter Sandman… as he Hetfield chanted “And now I lay down to sleep… “ I just told myself, “this is insane… I can take no more”….

I has been truly all the long travel… the back ache and all the wait …. I never thought I could see these guys ever … but Jasoon Newstead you were sorely missed…Lars seemed to have gone mellow… age suits him and what can I say about Hetfield… he is just too much!

As we decided to walk back to the nearest taxi stand I still could not believe what I had just seen… I knew it would take a hell lot of time to let that feeling sink again… like it happened to me when opened the courier and saw the concert tickets.

As we were heading home I knew this was definitely a pilgrimage and also realized that I had not slept for the past twenty four hours.

So much for Mr. James Hetfield  & Co. 

And all that splutter and blubber...

Without a doubt this is the way things happen when I try playing with words. Its been a long long time and a lot many things happened in the last few months... 
And all these definitely would come out as "splutter and blubber" and I am excited as a kid like in a toy shop... from where to begin...


2011 has been a good year. So far so good... as the count down for the new year begins I can write this with confidence... and a smile steadily forming on my lips and eyes glittering with all the stories I have to tell...


I don't know who will read all this. Or will these ever be read. 


I don't write to please anyone's whims and fancies. I write for myself. I write because it relaxes me. Writing to me is like speaking to a friend who would never judge me or be biased. But rather would be a good listener... nodding his head in agreement, squint his eyes at times, raise his eye-brows when he listens to all the mischief, would pat me on my shoulders and lend his arm to hold on to when I need the most. 


So now that Nior's school is over and so are my duties I guess I will have enough time to write. 


My bench mark - One story a day.


But then I have a case of forgetfulness...


This is a reminder note of all the things I should put down in plain simple words:


Milestones - Nior
Summer at Havelock
Notes on my ex factor
Transition from Old Monk to Khodays
My pilgrimage 
My first crush (someone asked me about this yesterday and I really smiled a lot while I narrated this incident... so let us get this straight into the naanosphere page... I mean why not!)
Bonding & re-unions...
Late nights
Misunderstanding and ironing out the creases


& maybe something called Where there is a will....

INKED!

Good tattoos aren't cheap and cheap tattoos aren't good.... Author Unknown!

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Conversations & Confessions.... Jab we sat … (& talked)

I broke a promise.

It’s as simple as that.

I broke not only a promise but also broke someone’s trust and heart all at once.

Bad bad me…

I don’t know from where to begin… its one long story. And this is one story I would not like to muddle and mess or edit my lines. If you get an eye sore by the time you reach the last line, don’t tell me I didn’t warn you!

I knew I did something which would not be easily forgiven. But I had a plan. I wanted to make a confession and come out clean and assure that this would never happen again in the future.

But my plans did not see the light of the day. It died prematurely.

“Why are you in touch with that bastard again?” he asked me.

I didn’t have to ask who was being referred to. I knew this was coming. But never for once did I foresee the hatred which still remained undamaged. I thought with time opinions had altered. But no! I was so damn wrong.

He waited patiently for an answer looking into my eyes fixedly. Those few seconds seemed infinite while I managed to gather my voice and grit to answer that one simple question.

As I nodded my head in affirmation, I felt the soft, pendulous lower part of my external ear getting warmer and it had changed its hue to a shade of crimson (if only I could have seen my reflection). At the same time I also felt my eyes tearing unstoppably.  

  

Man... I love to hate you

Ajmal – I love to hate that man for reasons I really don’t know. A tall and dark fellow whose shrewdness oozes out from his gaze and smile; his side-burns and moustache with his jet black well oiled locks matches his personality as much as his olive like eyes which forever looks red and swollen.

The way I have described him might sound eerie and maddening. But he is exactly this; wait till you see him one fine; day if luck is by your side and you will thank me for telling you this well in advance!

And if his looks were not enough to characterize his persona, you will go bonkers when he opens his mouth. He possesses perhaps the ugliest set of teeth, stained almost in a shade of something seemingly yellowish and grayish layer of plaque with crimson lining on the edges for his mouth is eternally busy chewing tobacco. I wonder if he has ever brushed his teeth!

I’ve been seeing this man in our locality for a long time now. Not only does he despise me but even the hounds (the self-proclaimed kingpins) that wander about in the lanes are not too fond of him either. The very sight of him and they bark unstoppably.

I don’t remember the first conversation we had but I very well remember the last one we had a few days ago.

For the past few months Ajmal and I were not in talking terms. If his looks were not good enough reasons for me to hate him, he had the guts to actually siphon money from me in broad daylight! That was it. I asked him to “leave” immediately and never to step in our compound ever again. He tried his best to plead, persuade and assure me that it was “just a mistake” but I had no energy left to buy all the things he said in a bid to defend himself.

I hate stacking things. I firmly believe that if I don’t use a thing for a year; be it clothes or other stuff, I am sure I shall not be using this again in the near future. And hence I dispose off clutter. Old clothes, shoes, curtains etc mostly sees their way to Clothes Bank a local N.G.O but what do I do with old newspapers, beer bottles, cans etc?

That was precisely the moment when Ajmal stepped into my life as a big rescue.

Ajmal is a measly scrap and junk collector. Thus he made my life a whole lot easier and clutter free. I am a kind of someone who doesn’t remember faces too well, maybe it’s the Aquarius in me – the “out of sight out of mind” syndrome. But his face is one thing I could never miss for sure, even if that meant seeing him while going to the nearby market to buy vegetables. Years passed on and he knew his timings well. He would come gather all the junk and there have been times when I’d offer him tea and snacks. In a bid to return that favour he’d also tidy up the compound sometimes, brush off dried leaves from the lawn and also mow the lawn if he had time. And I was happy with this arrangement no matter how disgusting he looked.

But with time passing his behavior seemed had changed. He was no longer dedicated towards his work. He was disinterested in his chores. He would still say “yes” when I’d ask him if he’d like to have a cup of tea but he no longer would mow the lawn or brush up the dried leaves. I had no time to ponder into these trivial issues then. I was too busy mending my own life.

And one fine day Nirav casually tapped me on my shoulders and said, “Do you realize that this man is deceiving you?” He further said, “Have you ever crossed checked whether he weighs the newspapers correctly?”

All I had as an answer was a simple, “No”.

The next best thing Nirav did was to ask Ajmal weigh the entire heap of newspapers yet one more time. I wasn’t too happy about it, especially on a hot and humid afternoon. Ajmal could see the wrath in Nirav’s eyes for sure and he heeded with much fuss. Nirav made sure his scales were accurate and on the second count I realized that I was actually being duped by about five kilos of newspaper! And I wondered in the last nine years how many kilos of junk he had deceived me.

And that was it. I asked him to “leave” and keep the entire bundle of papers and other junk where it was and never to show his face or dare talk to me again.

For the last couple of months I’ve been throwing away all the junk in the garbage bin. But the pile of newspapers was getting larger and larger. I didn’t know what to do. There were other scarp collectors too, passing by our home and many a times I’ve had this desperate urge to call one of them and clear the mess. But then I thought of Ajmal and said to myself, “they are all the same”, and I let the heap get larger.

Day before yesterday, I was in the balcony watering my plants and Nirav was in the porch washing car. And from the corner of my eye I could sense someone was near the gate. As I looked down I saw Ajmal. As I looked into him, he sheepishly smiled at me. I did not respond. I looked away and kept watering my plants. I looked towards the gate again and saw him still standing there hoping I’d let him in. I came inside, got busy with preparing breakfast and about fifteen minutes later as I went to the balcony to call Nirav for breakfast I saw Ajmal still waiting. Nirav by then had finished his washing and was coming upstairs. As he stepped in I asked him, “Should I ask him to come and take away the newspapers?”

Nirav nodded his head and reminded me of what had happened about eight months ago.

I assured him, “I’ll be careful this time around”. And as walked towards the balcony to call Ajmal i could see a sheer excitement in this face, that shrewdness oozing out from his gaze and smile yet one more time…

As he weighed the newspapers he asked me if “dada” was around just in case he wanted to “check the scales” …

Maybe Ajmal again duped me. I am not sure. He assured me he did not. And I trust him. Not because he means much but because he helps me in tidying up my home.

Being me…

Two decades back the only “days” that called for celebration were birthdays and anniversaries in the home turf and in school there were Teacher’s day, Children’s Day. Parent’s Day & something known as “Gratitude day”. Till now I have no clue about why we celebrated Gratitude day.

Because we went to a Convent School Christmas celebrations were always way ahead of the actual date, mostly on the last day of our Annual Exams which was around the first week of December.

In those days we had few greeting cards to choose… and with a limited pocket money we could not possibly splurge on buying a dozen cards for friends. I remember my mom getting really creative with me and it was always the hand made cards that I sent my friends for either birthdays or wishing them Happy Holidays as the school closed for vacation.

That one small thing remained with me for a long time. However it does not mean that I’ve made personalized cards for each and every soul with whom I have shared great rapport. Because by the time I landed in college Archies & Hallmark gave me a sheer complex with their bundle of greeting cards and that too for every occasion!

The last card I made was ten years ago, when I was in head over heels in love with someone and it was the only moment in my life when something in me said “ he is the one I should get married and settle down… so what if he doesn’t owns a pink Cadillac… did not possess a fat bank balance….” And a decade later I still don’t regret this decision.

So I made this card for the man who’s been with me for a decade now like a shadow, who knows me in and out and most of the times does things for me which I have in my mind only….

The card was one long chain of memos in square shapes tied with ribbons and in each memo I jotted down the reason why I loved him. There were hundred memos!

Prior or post marriage I don’t recall celebrating St. Valentine’s Day. Not because we as a couple are unromantic but then why single out a day to profess and show your love when you could possibly do with small gestures and big surprises everyday round the clock.

Yesterday a friend wished me Happy Woman’s Day. I thanked him for his wishes and for also reminding me about it.  

Perhaps the best way I’ve celebrated Woman’s Day was during the period I was working. Being a product trainer for FMCGs especially cosmetics and toiletries, once we (me & my two colleagues) got a pleasant surprise when our H.R National Head said that we were free to choose any lip and nail colours we wanted on Woman’s Day. And our plight was like that of a mouse in front of a trap who didn’t know whether to choose the cheese or the bread! Better comparison would be an Assamese adage – “odhik masot bogoli kona” which translated would mean too many fish can make a crane go absolutely blind!

Another incident that flashed across my mind yesterday was a text message B sent me on Woman’s Day. Mornings are always a mad rush, when I was on job and even now as a stay at homebody.

I was rushing to go to work when my cell phoned beeped. I checked the message and it was one short and sweet message from B. It said, “Nappy Woman’s Day”!

I didn’t have to ask him what Nappy meant because I knew Nandini + Happy makes Nappy.

Its been a long time since that message but still I am fond about it….

Being me is perhaps Nappy!

Yeah!!!

Got the Grip

Someone casually asked me “why are you obsessed about him?”

OBSESSED is too big a word. I never thought I have been obsessed with anything or anyone. And when I was making myself clear about this whole obsessed issue I was further told and made aware that I was “still stuck” with that!

I am an Aquarian, and that too a strong one. I believe in my instincts and major decisions of my life have been taken from the heart rather than my head. And I seriously have no qualms about it.

For me love has been always unconditional and unrestricted. That’s one of the foremost reasons why I have been the lousiest lover and a girlfriend for all my ex-boyfriends! 

The two ex-boyfriends I have had would nod in agreement about this even if you were to ask them today. Because I’ve been a friend to all and worse I’ve always hanged out with boys and men more than women the poor souls were left clueless and insecure. They always doubted me and where they stood in my priority list!

Uncanny as I am for majority of people – friends and acquaintances, I know I have mostly scandalized people for all the wrong reasons. Its not that I am lazy but I don’t feel I really need to make people understand the “me” in me. A simple logic overrides this judgment of mine. If you know me than why gape… or why ogle at me with a strange expression… or why imagine me to be from a different solar system altogether?

And yes! I am still “stuck” in that one word “obsessed”. Not because I am but because I am not.