The dawn of 12th Dec ’09 saw a flurry of activity. There were people running in different directions to pick people up and there was the usual arrangements that needed to be looked into as the evening bash was to be held at Duda’s farm. Spirits were the obvious priority as khana to roz khate hain. The rendezvous point was the Narmada Club. As we picked up some perfect ice for a perfect evening frantic calls came in from Duda who since sunset , was really very thirsty.
At the entrance to Narmada Club the batch 77 cut quite a picture. There were squeals and shouts to see the toll taken by 32 years! Shapes, sizes, hairlines, marital status, social status….so much had changed yet at that evening it was the good old days once again. It did not take even a second for all to slip back to 77 completely oblivious to the staring on lookers who were wondering at the most inappropriate behavior of the almost senior citizens. It took the spouses a couple of nudges to get the batch to move towards Duda’s farm.
Duda’s farm had the trade mark chicken coop as we entered and then we moved into his den known for many misadventures, characteristic of Duda. The guys got cracking the moment they disembarked unable to hold back their thirst any longer. For that evening, everybody decided to let go and have a drink. Even Inder obliged us with a wine though Anjana persisted with a nimbu paani. Ummi had a drink too which was photographed for posterity as she is very active in the “temperance” activities of the Church. After the initial ‘who is doing what’ was over, Frankie made an appearance with his badly tuned guitar. Then it was song and song and song beginning with “those were the days”, “loves a lonely song” and then the good old “chalte chalte……..” That we sang in tune or rhythm did not matter. All that mattered was that we sang and Frankie grinned and put up bravely with the various keys and notes of the singers. Abhijeet, though not a part of the 77 batch became an inseparable part . Organising parties to perfection using all his resources to make the reunion a memorable one. Abhijeet, you are such a sweet heart! Well it was a riotous evening and I was glad that Narendra did not bring his daughter along. I had warned Narendra but then he was in an adventurous mood and perhaps wanted to prove to his daughter that he was a “happening and rocking dad” contrary to his serious lawyer- author image. The impressionable girl would have been exposed to not so savory anecdotes and language. We broke up close to midnight only to promise to meet as soon as we woke up the next day.
Never in my life have I experienced so much of uninhibited fun. All of us mature, could take jibes and poke fun at each other with no holds barred. To quote Duda, the next day a lot of his plants had withered and about thirty fowls had dropped dead out of shame and embarrassment as they had never been exposed to such raw and crass vocabulary!
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Cheers to a begining!
Batch 77 met up officially on 12th Dec 2009 in the evening, but for Shyamalendu, Milan and me it all started on 11th Dec 2009 evening in Nagpur. We had driven to Nagpur from Shirdi and though we were both sleep challenged and tired meeting Milan, perked us up. As usual the evening was full of cheer and spirits as Milan sneaked out of a wedding reception to be with us….though we did get back to the wedding for our dinner. We were all very excited about the days to come. To make the evening more interesting a call was made to Duda to tell him how much Milan and Shyamalendu were enjoying a drink…To which a very hurt Duda said that he wanted to come along with Milan to Nagpur but Milan turned him away saying that there was no space in the car! So, to rub it in more these two villans updated that restless ‘dry’ soul in Jabalpur about every drink that they poured. In sheer helpless frustration, Duda told us that it had become cloudy in Jabalpur and that he would hold us responsible for the bad weather!
The three of us rolled out next morning. A clear, bright and sunny day! The drive from Nagpur to Jabalpur is something we have always enjoyed. The tiger jungles of Seoni are a treat to watch any time of the year. We drove through Seoni and halted at Chapara to eat bhaji wada and pick up custard apples. As the guys settled to make the afternoon high spirited, a mandatory inciting call was made to Duda so that they could derive some vicarious pleasure of their friends’ ‘dry’ status.
We entered Jabalpur and set off to the marble rocks to see the location of our future winter resort. Then after a long time I tasted awesome dal and roti made of sharbati wheat at a local dhaba. As the evening set in we were at Milan’s home in Jabalpur. In the evening Shyamalendu and I went to DSOI, much to Duda’s chagrin who made a face even as he quaffed black label! This was followed by Narmada Club where I walked into the bar and created a furor and history of sorts to be the only lady to sit in the bar with the guys! So much for Jabalpur’s cosmopolitan culture!
The night set in with the bong in Shyamalendu making too much of a trivia and the usual string of abuses reserved for Duda who had made some last minute changes in the evening bash for the next day.
Thus began the very eventful beginning to the most memorable holiday of my life!
The three of us rolled out next morning. A clear, bright and sunny day! The drive from Nagpur to Jabalpur is something we have always enjoyed. The tiger jungles of Seoni are a treat to watch any time of the year. We drove through Seoni and halted at Chapara to eat bhaji wada and pick up custard apples. As the guys settled to make the afternoon high spirited, a mandatory inciting call was made to Duda so that they could derive some vicarious pleasure of their friends’ ‘dry’ status.
We entered Jabalpur and set off to the marble rocks to see the location of our future winter resort. Then after a long time I tasted awesome dal and roti made of sharbati wheat at a local dhaba. As the evening set in we were at Milan’s home in Jabalpur. In the evening Shyamalendu and I went to DSOI, much to Duda’s chagrin who made a face even as he quaffed black label! This was followed by Narmada Club where I walked into the bar and created a furor and history of sorts to be the only lady to sit in the bar with the guys! So much for Jabalpur’s cosmopolitan culture!
The night set in with the bong in Shyamalendu making too much of a trivia and the usual string of abuses reserved for Duda who had made some last minute changes in the evening bash for the next day.
Thus began the very eventful beginning to the most memorable holiday of my life!
Monday, December 28, 2009
Relatives vs Friends
After the grand reunion…..I suppose an encounter with relatives was certainly like a cruel joke of destiny. But on an after thought, I believe it was destiny’s way of reiterating that friends are way above relatives.
To begin with relatives come as a package deal, thrust upon you by destiny of birth or matrimony. They are breed who remember only when they are in need either material or otherwise. As they have a certain right to close proximity, they stake a claim on you whether you like their company or not. And because they are so linked to you by a power out of your control, they play merry havoc with your life. They walk into your peaceful existence when they want to and with a few insensitive words ruin your peace of mind. This breed, known as relatives, somehow, never ever learn to move on. They thrive on unpleasant memories of the past and almost derive a vicarious glee out of scratching and reopening healed wounds. Since I belong to a traditional feudal family, I have a bunch of “pile on” variety of relatives who are eternally in the wings waiting for a hapless weak subject like my mother. At the age of 70 plus, she panders to their chauvinistic arrogance indulgently dismissing it as a reminder of her equally obnoxious sibling. I am sure all of us are familiar with this breed and there are very few lucky ones who have managed to have even a handful of relatives for friends.
Contrast this with our friends… Here is a relationship that you have made out of your choice and yes with no strings attached. You walk into the relationship when you want to , you walk out when you want to and still you can start from where you left without any bitterness. Well, even if you are bitter about something, you sort it out and move on. That is what makes friendship stand head and shoulders above every other binding…The openness, the acceptance and the freedom to walk in and walk out makes all friendships endure placing it far above the bindings of blood which often appear to be a cruel joke of destiny.
Cheers to our friendship!
To begin with relatives come as a package deal, thrust upon you by destiny of birth or matrimony. They are breed who remember only when they are in need either material or otherwise. As they have a certain right to close proximity, they stake a claim on you whether you like their company or not. And because they are so linked to you by a power out of your control, they play merry havoc with your life. They walk into your peaceful existence when they want to and with a few insensitive words ruin your peace of mind. This breed, known as relatives, somehow, never ever learn to move on. They thrive on unpleasant memories of the past and almost derive a vicarious glee out of scratching and reopening healed wounds. Since I belong to a traditional feudal family, I have a bunch of “pile on” variety of relatives who are eternally in the wings waiting for a hapless weak subject like my mother. At the age of 70 plus, she panders to their chauvinistic arrogance indulgently dismissing it as a reminder of her equally obnoxious sibling. I am sure all of us are familiar with this breed and there are very few lucky ones who have managed to have even a handful of relatives for friends.
Contrast this with our friends… Here is a relationship that you have made out of your choice and yes with no strings attached. You walk into the relationship when you want to , you walk out when you want to and still you can start from where you left without any bitterness. Well, even if you are bitter about something, you sort it out and move on. That is what makes friendship stand head and shoulders above every other binding…The openness, the acceptance and the freedom to walk in and walk out makes all friendships endure placing it far above the bindings of blood which often appear to be a cruel joke of destiny.
Cheers to our friendship!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Shyamalendu Mukherjee
I am sure a lot you would be on tender hooks, waiting for their profiles to appear and of course to see what my words have to say about their batch mate in my life i.e. Shyamalendu Mukherjee. As a writer, I promise to be true to m words which often come straight from the heart. And once these words go public, I hope I am assured of a home with one of you !!!! After all these words are for all of you. I also know that I stand the risk of being biased as I know Shyamalendu from the perspective of a husband and I hope that it does not blunt the edge to my observations and comments.
In all these years, I have understood Mukku as I call him, as a very serious person. Law abiding to an irritating extent, I am sure he has never jumped a red light! And fair to a fault even at the cost of hurting his near and dear ones. His upright stand makes him a little intolerant towards human frailties. Like a typical Bong the newspaper is a very crucial part of his routine and true to his origins he gets disturbed or elated by National or international events. I suppose the Bong in him makes sure that he never takes things lightly. And like a true Bong he never ever does let his hair down! Painfully self conscious, I wonder if anybody has seen him with ruffled hair. Even when he needs to rush the dogs out in the middle of the night, he never misses to brush his hair into place and a quick appraisal of his turn out. Like a typical Bong, he is obsessed with food. He is in fact a perfectionist when it comes to the selection of the meats that he survives on. The butcher on his first visit tears his hair in despair but later on panders to his needs only because he is an assured customer. The fish needs to be of specific weight and dimension to catch his fancy. In all this transaction, the price assumes least consideration.
Within this entire stern exterior lies a very vulnerable sensitive person. A perfect example of heart ruling the head, yet I hear from his friends that he was really girl shy. Maybe it was against his sense of propriety to fall in love! He is a people’s person. Nothing will please him more than people staking a claim on his attention. A stray comment from those he cares for, can ruin his day but make no mistake, there is no compromising on what he believes in.
Now that you all know me… you would have guessed that I am exactly the opposite of Shyamalendu. Then, do you wonder how we gel? Hey! Bhool gaye kya? OPPOSITES ATTRACT
In all these years, I have understood Mukku as I call him, as a very serious person. Law abiding to an irritating extent, I am sure he has never jumped a red light! And fair to a fault even at the cost of hurting his near and dear ones. His upright stand makes him a little intolerant towards human frailties. Like a typical Bong the newspaper is a very crucial part of his routine and true to his origins he gets disturbed or elated by National or international events. I suppose the Bong in him makes sure that he never takes things lightly. And like a true Bong he never ever does let his hair down! Painfully self conscious, I wonder if anybody has seen him with ruffled hair. Even when he needs to rush the dogs out in the middle of the night, he never misses to brush his hair into place and a quick appraisal of his turn out. Like a typical Bong, he is obsessed with food. He is in fact a perfectionist when it comes to the selection of the meats that he survives on. The butcher on his first visit tears his hair in despair but later on panders to his needs only because he is an assured customer. The fish needs to be of specific weight and dimension to catch his fancy. In all this transaction, the price assumes least consideration.
Within this entire stern exterior lies a very vulnerable sensitive person. A perfect example of heart ruling the head, yet I hear from his friends that he was really girl shy. Maybe it was against his sense of propriety to fall in love! He is a people’s person. Nothing will please him more than people staking a claim on his attention. A stray comment from those he cares for, can ruin his day but make no mistake, there is no compromising on what he believes in.
Now that you all know me… you would have guessed that I am exactly the opposite of Shyamalendu. Then, do you wonder how we gel? Hey! Bhool gaye kya? OPPOSITES ATTRACT
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
The Priceless Duda
Every group has a star and without a doubt the star of this Batch 77 is Sudhir Jacob alias Duda. Duda is priceless, one of his kind. I am sure the mould in which he was created got damaged so he can never be replicated. His goof ups and the many words that escape between the cup and the lip have now assumed legendary status. In fact he is adept in adding to his own collections of hilarious anecdotes and episodes.
When I met him first he was dressed as a quasi politician which I later on learnt was his way of bonding with a close relative, politician. On that summer evening seated on his terrace he explained that all the hay strewn about on the terrace was only to make the air-conditioning more effective. He even went on to give me figures like 30% to which the whole crowd expressed surprise …. They never new that he could count beyond 20! Then on till I left Jabalpur there were many an occasions when Duda displayed his ability for creating humor. Be it the love letters (including the early ones written to his wife) that he made his friend write, the telephone calls that his friend made to girls impersonating him, the only line he ever managed to speak to a date “Do you have an eraser?”, his bicycle sojourns in mid afternoon around a prospective girl friends house….. oh the list is endless.
Duda is the toast of all the parties purely for his entertainment value. I have known people reschedule their parties only to accommodate the very crucial presence of Duda. He is a doctor’s delight! There is no cure that he has not tried for a host of ailments imagined and otherwise. Naturally his half baked knowledge of medicines has led him to eat “fetusguard” instead of “peptoguard” to cure acidity. He beats all in goof ups mostly at his cost, like a panic call to the frustrated local Vet to insist that his male dog is on heat.
But our Duda is adorable…He loves the booze and shows rare ingenuity to hide the number of pegs downed from his wife. His hiding spots ranhe from flower pots to commode tanks. Though he prefers scotch, in desperate times just about anything works for him and that too in any measures of combination. At the end of such binges he is all mushy and sentimental and breaks into English! E.g. “Thank you for fucking me royally” I am sure he picked that up from someplace
. The rest of the world really does not exist for him. In this small world he lives happily with his really sweet wife and four lovely kids. His world begins and ends with his farm and the church for purely economic reasons. So, when we were to drive off to Bangalore he was full of concern for our safety as Karnataka was burning …. demanding for the creation of a new state Telengana.
When I met him first he was dressed as a quasi politician which I later on learnt was his way of bonding with a close relative, politician. On that summer evening seated on his terrace he explained that all the hay strewn about on the terrace was only to make the air-conditioning more effective. He even went on to give me figures like 30% to which the whole crowd expressed surprise …. They never new that he could count beyond 20! Then on till I left Jabalpur there were many an occasions when Duda displayed his ability for creating humor. Be it the love letters (including the early ones written to his wife) that he made his friend write, the telephone calls that his friend made to girls impersonating him, the only line he ever managed to speak to a date “Do you have an eraser?”, his bicycle sojourns in mid afternoon around a prospective girl friends house….. oh the list is endless.
Duda is the toast of all the parties purely for his entertainment value. I have known people reschedule their parties only to accommodate the very crucial presence of Duda. He is a doctor’s delight! There is no cure that he has not tried for a host of ailments imagined and otherwise. Naturally his half baked knowledge of medicines has led him to eat “fetusguard” instead of “peptoguard” to cure acidity. He beats all in goof ups mostly at his cost, like a panic call to the frustrated local Vet to insist that his male dog is on heat.
But our Duda is adorable…He loves the booze and shows rare ingenuity to hide the number of pegs downed from his wife. His hiding spots ranhe from flower pots to commode tanks. Though he prefers scotch, in desperate times just about anything works for him and that too in any measures of combination. At the end of such binges he is all mushy and sentimental and breaks into English! E.g. “Thank you for fucking me royally” I am sure he picked that up from someplace
. The rest of the world really does not exist for him. In this small world he lives happily with his really sweet wife and four lovely kids. His world begins and ends with his farm and the church for purely economic reasons. So, when we were to drive off to Bangalore he was full of concern for our safety as Karnataka was burning …. demanding for the creation of a new state Telengana.
Monday, December 21, 2009
The Reunion - Dec 2009
Even at the risk of being frowned upon by English Pundits I would call the reunion of Batch 77 as an “exercise in “fruitility”.
Begun as almost for a lark in an idle nostalgic moment, this exercise gathered momentum and fructified in five days of pure, rip roaring unadulterated fun. Like my soul mate Harvinder put it
RARELY does one laugh oblivious to the surroundings or reaction of people
RARELY do you have people keeping relations with people from the heart
RARELY do find people without any agenda hidden or open
RARELY do you find such bonhomie
RARELY do you find that your pocket size or identity is least important to another
The common word used is “RARELY”
Truly we RARELY get to meet such RARE people.
Everybody had changed, some had moved on while some ambled caught up in their societal cares and obligations. But on those five days everyone was out to have fun. Notwithstanding the extended waistlines and receding hairlines, The grandchildren and newly wed children; those five days brought them back to their teens. The days of terylene shirts, bell bottoms, curly locks, drooping moustache and yes songs of Kishore Kumar, customized for Rajesh Khanna.
All these people who had completed half a century on this earth forgot all their multiple ailments and became teenagers. Drinking from Midday to midnight, even the odd teetotaler looked equally intoxicated at the end of the day ooopss night. It did not matter where they were, or who was watching them they lived life with the reckless abandon of a teenager for those five days.
At the end every body left and reached their homes, once again to quote Harvinder “safe and sad”. But all felt rejuvenated to face the chores of mundane, worldly, boring routine with a promise from the heart “we part only to meet again”
Begun as almost for a lark in an idle nostalgic moment, this exercise gathered momentum and fructified in five days of pure, rip roaring unadulterated fun. Like my soul mate Harvinder put it
RARELY does one laugh oblivious to the surroundings or reaction of people
RARELY do you have people keeping relations with people from the heart
RARELY do find people without any agenda hidden or open
RARELY do you find such bonhomie
RARELY do you find that your pocket size or identity is least important to another
The common word used is “RARELY”
Truly we RARELY get to meet such RARE people.
Everybody had changed, some had moved on while some ambled caught up in their societal cares and obligations. But on those five days everyone was out to have fun. Notwithstanding the extended waistlines and receding hairlines, The grandchildren and newly wed children; those five days brought them back to their teens. The days of terylene shirts, bell bottoms, curly locks, drooping moustache and yes songs of Kishore Kumar, customized for Rajesh Khanna.
All these people who had completed half a century on this earth forgot all their multiple ailments and became teenagers. Drinking from Midday to midnight, even the odd teetotaler looked equally intoxicated at the end of the day ooopss night. It did not matter where they were, or who was watching them they lived life with the reckless abandon of a teenager for those five days.
At the end every body left and reached their homes, once again to quote Harvinder “safe and sad”. But all felt rejuvenated to face the chores of mundane, worldly, boring routine with a promise from the heart “we part only to meet again”
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