Middle of nowhere

thats what i ge to hear quite often here. where were you living, in the middle of nowhere?? the context is that i usually am not aware of various topics of discussions such as music bands, artists, tourist destinations, festivals, films, and even companies sometimes. i am unaware of common terms and gross terms, of wild adventures and accepted twists of fate and behaviour.

but i did live in the middle of nowhere. nowhere as big as here, nowhere as fast as here, nowhere as complicated and cutthroat. i lived in a dreamworld, where 15 min drive meant a distance far away, where a walk to the bazar meant having an evening out. where having meals with family, hot and fresh was the most important obligation to fulfill for the day. where a rain shower could sprinkle my face in my balcony and i always had time to walk straight into it.

my nowhere did teach me somethings. values and principles. simple living. reading good books. being nice to people. importance of balance in life. sense of adapting to different people, being in their shoes and thinking from their perspective. respecting nature and the mysteries of life. being good and spreading good. wonder why when i think about settling long term, i think about going back to nowhere..

the missing 4 P's of my life

Paunch: everyone has flat stomachs here. what is it about this pig eating, 7 course meal, 2 hour siesta country that my country doesn't? paunches. to start with. i miss the traffic policemen standing manning the streets in the hot sun and wondering whether it is the all-day standing that gives them the paunch. i miss the dingy government offices where all the walls are splashed with paan spits (another missing p) and the cobwebs carry a heritage that goes beyond the british. i guess for them it is the all-day sitting that gives them the paunches. or maybe it is the race of ghee versus olive oil.

Perspiration: noses here are about ten times more sensitive than back home. you walk into the dance studio after the previous batch has left. and someone behind you comments, this room smells of dance. i understand the comment in my head, but not in my nose. and the sweaty people are not even in the room. i wonder what would happen if the someone were in india. in mumbai. by marine drive on a sweltering may evening. maybe just melt away into the sea. oh but wait, how many smells would he distinguish on the beach. i miss the wind drying the sweat beads on my face. the trail of the bead down my skin. spreading my arms wide pillion riding on the bike, almost flying away. where were you going missing p - pillion riding.

Phone: i could never sit quietly. after all what was the phone for. i had things to talk, and people had time to listen. even before the mobile-less days, back when i was forbidden to take calls because of the number of blank calls we used to get. then the missed call communication mode. then the free sms mode. then the free calling mode. then the free receiving mode. and now no phone mode. gone are the days when i preferred the slim genius. i have a monster of a smartphone now, which i barely use to call. my world of voices has now become my world of words. and from today onwards in this new term with my new seat where the professor talk to the class while his face is inches away from mine, i am back into the no phone zone. missing p - pj, (time)pass.

Pals: i miss you guys. canteen to telankhedi, CCD to long rides, GB to sweet chariot, aundh to KP, those are precious memories and i am proud to have shared these moments with you. another missing p - picture dekhne jate hain.

perseverance keeps me going. some p's are good to have.

unprecedented snow

in barcelona in march. and unprecedented for me.

i get off the bus, my jacket zipped up to my chin, hood in place and the umbrella firmly blocking the rogue rain from reaching me. i can only see my feet, as i walk up the slope, refusing to let the rain touch my face. by the time i reach school i realize i can't see the rain. because its not rain anymore, its something white. and soft. and melts on your fingertip after a swift glimpse of the crystal structure. its snowing in barcelona!

students are out in the lounge in the first coffee break and are running out with the blackberry cameras in hand. i don't want to go in, i want to experience fresh snow! its so beautiful as the flakes dance their way down. the wind makes them change direction, swirl around, its almost a balle performance, complete with pristine white. my seat is close to the window, and right beyond the projector screen i can see the snow dancing. the trees resisting the snow from perching on their leaves, the wall has just begun to accumulate it. after school, the students unleash the child in them, and hurl snowballs at each other. snowflakes on the coat lapels, intertwined in the hair, and about to go down someone's collar. when you walk, you foot sinks into the soft powdery surface, and its almost like walking in a fairytale.

and then you reach the street. the cars are under a thick pile of snow, you still have your camera out and are clicking pictures everywhere, when you reach the first intersection and see cars stuck. children standing outside school, wailing in the cold, parents scrambling for umbrellas, coats, anything they could get to make their children comfortable. and then you start slipping. the snow is ice now. the colour has changed and so has your fairytale experience. as you keep walking on to metro changing your mind about taking the bus, you see the mismanagement. its not a calamity, yet, its the sheer inability of human being to predict and hedge against natures variability. thankful for having my waterproof and hooded long coat, but regretting my sneakers, i trudge along. the snow is now turning brownish, you see more people piling into the metro station than ever. scramble for the tickets, scramble for the train, and then wait. the train waits for more people to get in, and stops for longer duration at each stop. when you finally walk back home from the station, the snow has turned into slush, and your sneakers are now soaked. the street is just a brown mess. when the snow piles on your umbrella, you just realize another one of the forms snow can mean. beauty, cold feet, weight, traffic jam. and so on.

and yet, in all this you see the highlights of human nature. despair for the parent in his inability to protect his child. and then another parent making her children jump, to throw off the snow on their coats, to generate some heat in their bodies and to have a light moment to forget the despair. and then the crowd cheering every time the train moves towards the next station. and even more when you see the announcement that classes tomorrow have been cancelled.

hail (no pun here) snow!