Owning a piece of land in Bangalore in itself is a big achievement for the salaried class. Many years back a government employee sold his only piece of land in his village and bought a small plot in Bangalore. It was the culmination of years of his yearning. Since he didnt have the money to build a house right away, he just waited for better days to arrive.
Once in every few months he would go and visit his plot, to see that it is safe. This went on without any hiccups for around 3 years. And on one such routine visits to his plot, he was aghast to see that a house was already standing on his plot, with a family living in it. His heart rate shooted quite high. He mustered enough courage to knock on that house's door. Some one appeared at the door and asked what it was. With a heavy heart and lot of perspiration on his face, he said this plot belonged to him.
The person who stayed in the house said that they had bought the plot few months back from the local landlord and he had built the house. This landlord incidentally was the same person from whom the first person had purchased the plot. Heart broken, the poor government employee went to the person who sold his property to another person without his knowledge. The landlord said he didnt know what he was blabbering and claimed not to have seen him earlier in his life.
The poor man returned home and narrated the incident to his family members. All were dumbstruck and shocked. There was no way he could fight the rich landlord. He shared this story with one of his colleague. Luckily his colleague said he could be of some help since he knew a notorious goon named "Seemenne Nagaraj". He and his colleague went and met this goon. Seemenne Nagaraj sent two of his lieutenants to clean up the act.
The two lieutenants of the goon knocked the door of the landlord who had cheated. The moment he got to know that these men were working for the notorious goon, he surrendered immediately and said he would give the plot adjacent to the original plot, without any charges and that too within a week. Within a week, the new plot got registered in the name of the cheated government servant.
The poor guy went on to built a house on that plot, before he retired from service. Incidentally i happen to be his son and thought i should share this story in my blog.
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
Saturday, 27 February 2010
Looking back, Marching Forward
Around 14 years back, we had a re-union meeting of our high school classmates. Though in our 10th batch there were 90 students, not all could be traced. Even among the traced classmates, not everyone turned up. When we finally had the re-union meeting on 07 January 1996, only around 25 turned up. Still it was such a big emotional event that i am unable to forget that date easily enough.
We had the get together done in our class that we all studied in. Some had got married by then. Many girls had lost their old time charm, but their affection increased manifold. Most of us danced that evening to the song Ek, Do, Teen..... from the film Tezaab. That song was such craze during our final days in school and even we all had danced to it in 1989. Enough fun, frolic and catching up happened. But then, it was the first and last re-union that happened till date.
While arranging that re-union meeting, our school administration had asked us to form an old student's association. Since i was posted in another city, i didnt volunteer, likewise others had their own reservations and reasons. Now one of our old classmate has come up showing interest. I too am trying to pool in all my resources to begin an Alumni association for our school. My visit to Bangalore next week should keep me busy with this for few days atleast. Its a way of thanks giving to our beloved Ramani Madam, who wants this old student's association to be up and running before she retires next year.
I feel i have some moral responsility to fulfil my old teacher's wishes. Lets see what happens.
We had the get together done in our class that we all studied in. Some had got married by then. Many girls had lost their old time charm, but their affection increased manifold. Most of us danced that evening to the song Ek, Do, Teen..... from the film Tezaab. That song was such craze during our final days in school and even we all had danced to it in 1989. Enough fun, frolic and catching up happened. But then, it was the first and last re-union that happened till date.
While arranging that re-union meeting, our school administration had asked us to form an old student's association. Since i was posted in another city, i didnt volunteer, likewise others had their own reservations and reasons. Now one of our old classmate has come up showing interest. I too am trying to pool in all my resources to begin an Alumni association for our school. My visit to Bangalore next week should keep me busy with this for few days atleast. Its a way of thanks giving to our beloved Ramani Madam, who wants this old student's association to be up and running before she retires next year.
I feel i have some moral responsility to fulfil my old teacher's wishes. Lets see what happens.
Monday, 18 January 2010
Nostalgia Welcomed
Away from the rigmarole of office work, the last 2 weeks have opened windows to the past that i had missed. Presently i am undergoing a training programme in Tambaram, Chennai. On an average day, our day starts with Parade followed by Classes, and again Classes followed by Lunch break and Physical training. The schedule is the same now as during my initial training days, except for the venue.
When i had undergone training in airforce as an ab-initio, it was in the pristine campus of Air Force in Jalahalli East, Bangalore. An year back i had the opportunity to visit the same campus after a gap of 15 years. The world outside the campus had changed beyond recognition, while inside the wall not a single thing had changed. The buildings marked for demotion 15 years back, were still waiting for their end. Our barracks, the trees around, the parade ground, everything was the same. When we went to have a cup of tea at the cafeteria, the guy manning it hadnt changed either, nor the taste of tea.
During that visit to Bangalore, we were a batch of Air Warriors who had all undergone training during more or less the same period. To take in the things around, through our senses, we went for a walk into the past around the area. All of us were excitedly talking, pointing fingers at things that we could associate with, without any blur in memory. Those days, getting up in the early morning and having our health run was not what we wanted; but now we are ready to do it, if only, life could be as simple as then.
My course mates who share my class presently in Tambaram, are all enjoying the semblance of schedule to our training days. No office tension, except for may be a little studying that is to be done to clear the course successfully. I have been noticing elderly soldiers in my class becoming children again, without a trace of blush on their faces. They ask the silliest of questions, pressing the whole class into giggles which ultimately turns to laughter. The instructors do not take umbrage to the little fun that we elderly students have. In fact they too join in, and the lesson is put on hold so that the joke can be carried to its logical end. And then, we all join in and laugh our hearts out.
At the PT ground, though none of us is comfortable with running 2 big rounds of a football ground, the final stage of the PT is enjoyed. After the running and exercising, our PT instructor initiates us into bouts of laughter, like we see in laughter clubs. All the pain of running and exercising is forgotten and we all laugh our hearts out loud, without any inhibitions. Wish life turns as simple for ever, as i am having it now.
When i had undergone training in airforce as an ab-initio, it was in the pristine campus of Air Force in Jalahalli East, Bangalore. An year back i had the opportunity to visit the same campus after a gap of 15 years. The world outside the campus had changed beyond recognition, while inside the wall not a single thing had changed. The buildings marked for demotion 15 years back, were still waiting for their end. Our barracks, the trees around, the parade ground, everything was the same. When we went to have a cup of tea at the cafeteria, the guy manning it hadnt changed either, nor the taste of tea.
During that visit to Bangalore, we were a batch of Air Warriors who had all undergone training during more or less the same period. To take in the things around, through our senses, we went for a walk into the past around the area. All of us were excitedly talking, pointing fingers at things that we could associate with, without any blur in memory. Those days, getting up in the early morning and having our health run was not what we wanted; but now we are ready to do it, if only, life could be as simple as then.
My course mates who share my class presently in Tambaram, are all enjoying the semblance of schedule to our training days. No office tension, except for may be a little studying that is to be done to clear the course successfully. I have been noticing elderly soldiers in my class becoming children again, without a trace of blush on their faces. They ask the silliest of questions, pressing the whole class into giggles which ultimately turns to laughter. The instructors do not take umbrage to the little fun that we elderly students have. In fact they too join in, and the lesson is put on hold so that the joke can be carried to its logical end. And then, we all join in and laugh our hearts out.
At the PT ground, though none of us is comfortable with running 2 big rounds of a football ground, the final stage of the PT is enjoyed. After the running and exercising, our PT instructor initiates us into bouts of laughter, like we see in laughter clubs. All the pain of running and exercising is forgotten and we all laugh our hearts out loud, without any inhibitions. Wish life turns as simple for ever, as i am having it now.
Saturday, 16 January 2010
No celebrations
On the 19th of January, i will be 36 years old. For the past 7 years, exactly at midnight between 18th and 19th of january, one girl would call and wish me happy birthday. This time around i doubt if she will call me to wish on my birthday. The reason being she would be undergoing a knee operation on the 19th of January 2010. Though we have never met, both of of us know each other inside out.
Last week she sent me an SMS enquiring about my present address. I gave her the adress. And today as i was writing the first sentence of this blog, a mail came. It was from her, and i knew what it was. It was a greeting card from her. I opened it quickly and started reading it. The opening was touching, and as always it was "Dearest Joshi" and then few more touching words straight from her heart. She wished me all good things through her sweet and sincere words, and asked me to have a blast of a celebration on this birthday.
How could i celebrate when my best friend is scheduled to have an operation on my birthday. Last week i told my better half that though i will be with her during this birthday of mine, i cant celebrate and also told her the reason. She understood the special bond i shared with my friend and hence respected my decision. So, this time around no partying or any pomp on my birthday.
The friend i talked about here is Puvaneswari, an old chatmate of mine. A gem of a person, a tamilian born and brought up in Malaysia, but studying in London. She completed her ACCA and is presently pursuing her MBA. I wish her a fast recovery and pray whole heartedly for her good health. For my family and friends, the celebrations and partying can wait until next year.
Last week she sent me an SMS enquiring about my present address. I gave her the adress. And today as i was writing the first sentence of this blog, a mail came. It was from her, and i knew what it was. It was a greeting card from her. I opened it quickly and started reading it. The opening was touching, and as always it was "Dearest Joshi" and then few more touching words straight from her heart. She wished me all good things through her sweet and sincere words, and asked me to have a blast of a celebration on this birthday.
How could i celebrate when my best friend is scheduled to have an operation on my birthday. Last week i told my better half that though i will be with her during this birthday of mine, i cant celebrate and also told her the reason. She understood the special bond i shared with my friend and hence respected my decision. So, this time around no partying or any pomp on my birthday.
The friend i talked about here is Puvaneswari, an old chatmate of mine. A gem of a person, a tamilian born and brought up in Malaysia, but studying in London. She completed her ACCA and is presently pursuing her MBA. I wish her a fast recovery and pray whole heartedly for her good health. For my family and friends, the celebrations and partying can wait until next year.
Saturday, 9 January 2010
When Eating became a Pain
In Air Force, there is a tradition whereby the married guys invite the bachelors to home and treat them with tasty home cooked food. Weekends are generally earmarked for this purpose when everyone is free from work. Usually 2 to 3 young guys are invited at once and treated to a sumptous fare, whether it is breakfast, lunch or dinner. This is done turnwise by most of the senior colleagues who are already married.
For my shy nature i avoided most of the invitations with some or the other excuse. One person kept inviting me week after week, because he liked me much. I was never comfortable with the idea of visiting someone's place just for the purpose of eating. Though the visit helped in socially being connected, filling one's stomach was the crux of the whole exercise. I tried many excuses to avoid this eating-visit, but this particular person kept inviting me the next week and so on. Atlast i had to agree to visit his home for a breakfast session.
My host was a tamilian named "Satta Nathan" which roughly translated to "King of Rules", and that could be the reason he wanted to do complete justice to his role as a Host. I used to eat 3 to 4 Idlis for breakfast. When i finished eating 4 idlis, i said "Iam done Sir". He was not the one to listen. His wife caught his gesture quite ably and dropped 2 more idlis into my plate. I gobbled up this extra seving with slight difficulty, so that my host doesnt feel unhappy. No sooner i finished the extra serving, another 2 were served. I was looking pathetic when i saw it, but my host was smiling and pleading me to finish those 2 idlis too. With great difficulty i finished those two.
By now i had gobbled up a total of 8 idlis. Mr. Satta Nathan was not a host who could be easily satisfied, though my stomach had started crying and pleading to me to put an end to this episode. With all the efforts that i took to convince him that day, he was not one to allow me to end my breakfast. He kept asking me if i didnt like his idlis. I answered they were good, and right away he would say me to eat another couple of them. I kept smiling to him and his wife, while quitely swallowing all the pain i was experienced, along with the idlis. That day he allowed me to get up only after i finished eating 13 idlis.
After that day, i kept turning down politely all the invitations for many years from all my colleagues. These days i do visit people's house but i make a request that i shall serve myself. This technique has worked well for me. I never thought Hosts could be so cruel to a guest. Till this day Mr. Satta Nathan has not realised the agony i went through, while at his home.
For my shy nature i avoided most of the invitations with some or the other excuse. One person kept inviting me week after week, because he liked me much. I was never comfortable with the idea of visiting someone's place just for the purpose of eating. Though the visit helped in socially being connected, filling one's stomach was the crux of the whole exercise. I tried many excuses to avoid this eating-visit, but this particular person kept inviting me the next week and so on. Atlast i had to agree to visit his home for a breakfast session.
My host was a tamilian named "Satta Nathan" which roughly translated to "King of Rules", and that could be the reason he wanted to do complete justice to his role as a Host. I used to eat 3 to 4 Idlis for breakfast. When i finished eating 4 idlis, i said "Iam done Sir". He was not the one to listen. His wife caught his gesture quite ably and dropped 2 more idlis into my plate. I gobbled up this extra seving with slight difficulty, so that my host doesnt feel unhappy. No sooner i finished the extra serving, another 2 were served. I was looking pathetic when i saw it, but my host was smiling and pleading me to finish those 2 idlis too. With great difficulty i finished those two.
By now i had gobbled up a total of 8 idlis. Mr. Satta Nathan was not a host who could be easily satisfied, though my stomach had started crying and pleading to me to put an end to this episode. With all the efforts that i took to convince him that day, he was not one to allow me to end my breakfast. He kept asking me if i didnt like his idlis. I answered they were good, and right away he would say me to eat another couple of them. I kept smiling to him and his wife, while quitely swallowing all the pain i was experienced, along with the idlis. That day he allowed me to get up only after i finished eating 13 idlis.
After that day, i kept turning down politely all the invitations for many years from all my colleagues. These days i do visit people's house but i make a request that i shall serve myself. This technique has worked well for me. I never thought Hosts could be so cruel to a guest. Till this day Mr. Satta Nathan has not realised the agony i went through, while at his home.
Sunday, 27 December 2009
Season of Festivities
Christmas has just got over and new year is within arm’s length. A long holiday for children and an extended weekend for me. My landlord is a Christian but except for the stars displayed outside his home, I don’t see much energy levels signifying the onset of Christmas season. My room mate planned a Christmas party in our house involving some colleagues. None of us were Christians, including the guests.
Our Christmas party started on 23rd Dec by 7 pm and continued till 11pm. In the short span, we sang many jingles and other songs apt for the occasion being celebrated. Though this time there wasnt any Santa Claus among us, with the limited strength that we could muster, we had the best of times possible. I recollect with joy the past Christmas years, when we would go around on Christmas eve, santa claus and all, distributing toffees to children in the locality. Every household we visited, we were treated to variety of fares and also enough liquor flowed freely, during the season.
These days people don’t have much time for themselves. Still in Air Force, these kind of festivities are not forgotten, when we are posted far from a city. Only these festival occasions provide the much needed platform to indulge in lot of partying and thereby strongly securing the camaraderie already in place. I don’t know much of the jingles, but there are some among us soldiers, who are adept at these melodious songs.
With the passing of years, the social connectivity is getting lessened, and I don’t know why this happens. No clear reasons, only thing I can fathom is that people are getting more self-centric. Celebration as a society is falling down in strength and quality. My short years left in the air force, I hope will help me indulge more vigorously in these kind of occasions, so that I have lot of joyful things to recollect in my later years.
My New year wishes to one and all. May god bless all with happiness, peace of mind and prosperity. Ever yours in the lord. Joshi.
Our Christmas party started on 23rd Dec by 7 pm and continued till 11pm. In the short span, we sang many jingles and other songs apt for the occasion being celebrated. Though this time there wasnt any Santa Claus among us, with the limited strength that we could muster, we had the best of times possible. I recollect with joy the past Christmas years, when we would go around on Christmas eve, santa claus and all, distributing toffees to children in the locality. Every household we visited, we were treated to variety of fares and also enough liquor flowed freely, during the season.
These days people don’t have much time for themselves. Still in Air Force, these kind of festivities are not forgotten, when we are posted far from a city. Only these festival occasions provide the much needed platform to indulge in lot of partying and thereby strongly securing the camaraderie already in place. I don’t know much of the jingles, but there are some among us soldiers, who are adept at these melodious songs.
With the passing of years, the social connectivity is getting lessened, and I don’t know why this happens. No clear reasons, only thing I can fathom is that people are getting more self-centric. Celebration as a society is falling down in strength and quality. My short years left in the air force, I hope will help me indulge more vigorously in these kind of occasions, so that I have lot of joyful things to recollect in my later years.
My New year wishes to one and all. May god bless all with happiness, peace of mind and prosperity. Ever yours in the lord. Joshi.
Thursday, 17 December 2009
The Forgotten Games
Today my wife forwarded me a mail, which talked about the things that gave happiness in immense measures during our childhood days. And those never cost anything. The children of today do have many things which couldnt be imagined while we were young. But still i feel they are a deprived lot. These kids face the toughest challenges in their small age itself. They have become more serious, and the innocence gets killed quite soon in their lives.
Last time i went to calicut in Kerala (In Nov 09), it was for sharing grief for the loss of an elderly family member. But the kids were not affected much, and they were always playing. Their stock of games are many times more than the city kids. But when compared to our times, its a far cry. I did introduce them to a new game, and indulged myself as a playmate. They all had so much fun and enjoyment in my company. I got 2 other adults also to participate partly, and they too forgot their pains for a while.
Next time i visit those kids, i want to introduce them to a whole lot of games which they havent heard of. No money was required to play games during my childhood. Tamarind seeds could give hours of enjoyment. One only needed to make a few few depressions on the ground. With just 6 pieces of stones we could play a game using our hands. A piece of long elastic gave a couple of hours of hard entertainment. A simple rubber band got us started using the fingers on both our hands in making exquisite and spellbinding shapes. A handful of mud with spittle on it and a stick dug in the centre of the spittle opened up another altogether new game. I can go on and on and on.
Ofcourse we did play cricket and soccer too. If you didnt have a bat, a wooden plank cut in a bat's shape did the trick. The maize's discard, thoughhard, could be used as a ball for a couple of games. I once almost blinded by sister using a bow and arrow made of broom sticks. I made kites on my own using newspaper, 2 broom sticks, a few grains of cooked rice for pasting purpose and presto! my kite was ready to fly. Earth dug for laying foundation for government quarters was used to play hide and seek. We hurt ourselves many a times, but never complained. After all the running around without slippers when we used to return home, there were flowery thorns in the dozen waiting to be picked from our bare heels. They pained, but we were always immersed in the game.
Past was so pleasant. I think everyone agrees.
Last time i went to calicut in Kerala (In Nov 09), it was for sharing grief for the loss of an elderly family member. But the kids were not affected much, and they were always playing. Their stock of games are many times more than the city kids. But when compared to our times, its a far cry. I did introduce them to a new game, and indulged myself as a playmate. They all had so much fun and enjoyment in my company. I got 2 other adults also to participate partly, and they too forgot their pains for a while.
Next time i visit those kids, i want to introduce them to a whole lot of games which they havent heard of. No money was required to play games during my childhood. Tamarind seeds could give hours of enjoyment. One only needed to make a few few depressions on the ground. With just 6 pieces of stones we could play a game using our hands. A piece of long elastic gave a couple of hours of hard entertainment. A simple rubber band got us started using the fingers on both our hands in making exquisite and spellbinding shapes. A handful of mud with spittle on it and a stick dug in the centre of the spittle opened up another altogether new game. I can go on and on and on.
Ofcourse we did play cricket and soccer too. If you didnt have a bat, a wooden plank cut in a bat's shape did the trick. The maize's discard, thoughhard, could be used as a ball for a couple of games. I once almost blinded by sister using a bow and arrow made of broom sticks. I made kites on my own using newspaper, 2 broom sticks, a few grains of cooked rice for pasting purpose and presto! my kite was ready to fly. Earth dug for laying foundation for government quarters was used to play hide and seek. We hurt ourselves many a times, but never complained. After all the running around without slippers when we used to return home, there were flowery thorns in the dozen waiting to be picked from our bare heels. They pained, but we were always immersed in the game.
Past was so pleasant. I think everyone agrees.
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