Go America!

I was told to buy hair ribbons, ('unconventional colours' was the specification) a metre each. There are no people of the ribbon tie-able age at home. The atmoshphere was tense and everybody seemed to be doing something important in a hurry. My brother was leaving for the US that evening. I decided it was best not to ask. With my oh so dependable aesthetic sense I picked up the necessary stuff and returned, still anxious to know what it was for.

I entered the house and saw one of the 2 gargantuan suitcases laid in the hall. When you open it, you won't get 2 halves on either side of the axis. The partition line in the horizontal plane is not exactly in the middle, it is way above. It is more like a rectangular case with an attached lid and few zips on the top. The ribbons were cut and bows were tied in all possible places on it. Zips, handle, locks, etc. It is easier to recognise and pick up your luggage from the conveyer belt this way it seems. "What if they put it upside down on the belt?" I managed to ask in between my uncontrollable giggles. Silence for a while. That was a valid possibility. All the toil would go futile then. Somebody came up with the idea of tying on the supports for the wheels aslo. So they were also decorated. The once sophisticated looking black American Tourister had colourful pretty bows all over. It looked ludicrous. Similar fate awaited the next bag too.

Interesting things in the hand luggage also. Pani puris minus the stuffing and water were being sent for the folks abroad. They are visiting us in sometime this year and there has been a new addition in the family. Variety of nappy pads being sent to see if Indian brands would be tolerable or they had to carry them from there. This atleast was somewhat a genuine necessity as compared to the card board shoe case filled with pani puris. Still the whole scenario provoked amusement.

He wasn't even spared from instructions like what to eat, what not to drink on the plane, when it's apt to use to use the loo, etc. Timely jokes from the youngsters popped in. The popular one being 'avoiding the 3Bs'. Some aunt would give a stern look and the inhibition of not having to laugh makes the joke ten fold funnier. How i love those situations..

He looked like a war hero with the tilak and all. We took turns to get pictures shot with him.
No matter how unsentimental a person you are, the airport ambience makes you have that feeling of leaving someone behind, a non descript fear. I have this habit of thinking about the good times at occasions like these. One hug was enough for me to turn to another direction and pretend to clear something that had fallen into my eye. It was sad in a nice way.

Utmost care about the minute details. Nevertheless chaos followed after he went inside. The bows were too heavy. The bags had crossed the weight limit. The gang went bonkers outside. Fully animated talks over the phone. Like Calvin says, "Some days the lucky rocket ship underpants also don't work."

Somehow the problem was resolved and he successfully checked in. He turned towards the tinted glass and waved a final goodbye. Sighs of relief, sense of accomplishment, bouts of excitement outside. We all cheered in unison and waved back vigourously knowing fully that he couldn't see or hear us.

We were around 30 of us. We sat at a nearby coffee shop to destress. Photo sessions continued. It was no less than a picnic. Small joys of being middle class I thought.

The eyes saw what the mind did not know

On the fourth day of our posting we were told to have a look at the in patients. There was a general ward which was locked and guarded. Assuming that might be it, I asked the guard before entering, "Idu psychiatry ward alwa?" He replied after some thought, "Alla. Idu mental ward."

Being the 'baby juniors' (as some like to call us) we were given simple instructions about making conversation with these people. As I went to my assigned bed and looked at the smiling person sitting there, I somehow knew I was going to remember this for quite some time. He was shabbily dressed, wore 2 shirts one over the other, cheerful, eager to talk. His case sheet read he was 60, married, no issues, used to work as a representative for a pharmaceutical company. He was one amongst the 20 others who were diagnosed of Schizophrenia, which arguably is the worst disease that can affect mankind, AIDS not excepted.

He spoke broken English and refused to talk in any other language. His replies to our repeated queries regarding his name, occupation, marital status were never the same. According to him, he is Seethramaiah (Congress president). His wife is Hema Malini. He has 2 children. (He even told us their names and education.) He had a Citizen watch which worked only outside India, i.e in Maharashtra. He was previously in Italy. He could speak 14 languages. Edward 'General' invented injection and he invented the thermometer. He travelled only in helicopters and he had one lakh rupees in his SBI account. He even wrote a comprehension on 'Lotus - my favourite flower'. He also made some diagrams. We were visibly amused with his responses and he was enjoying the attention.

He is totally not in touch with reality and has no insight to his illness whatsover. His script was unintelligible. But he read from it and when we asked him to re read the whole thing again he precisely repeated the same sentences. He had drawn some flowers and a picture of the brain. The brain was a big ball with small lines over it. He had tried to depict the sulci! We were amazed at the intricate details and the creativity of his writing. He gave us a mini speech in the end. He addressed us as "Ladies and gentlemen, brothers and sisters, my colleagues" and repeated it thrice. He gave us tips to stay slim and how important that is to lead a healthy life. He ended it by asking us how they could put him in this ward when he could speak such fluent English and talk intelligently. He looked at me and asked, "Do you think I'm mental person?" I did not know what to say. I just shook my head.

Sir later told us, his other side would be seen when his wife came to visit him. She has started working to make ends meet and afford his stay in the private hospital. He is violent/arrogant, mouths the foulest possible words to her. He has paranoia of persecution. If at all a disaster has to occur, partner's physical handicap is so very easier to care for, support and cope with, I thought. Atleast your spouse would understand. God doesn't leave us with choices at times.

It was time for us to leave. Sir asked us to give him a sweet or something. That would make him happy. I wished I was carrying something. None of us had candy. I asked him if he would like to have biscuits. He refused. Then with child like innocence he peeped into my apron pockets and asked me what I had got. I took out the remaining 2-3 Good day biscuits with the wrapper. The glazing cover attracted him. He grinned, grabbed it and said he would take it since I gave it with love. As we turned to leave, he tapped on my back and whispered, "Madam, not to mistake because I said the love." I felt a smile spreading on my face, assured him I wouldn't and left.

Movies masti and malls!

The new multiplex cum shopping mall which opened recently has become hugely popular. It is a novelty, first of its kind in Mangalore. Pizza eat outs, coffee shops, international brands and all that jazz. People flock in all the time even if there's nothing in specific to do. It is one of those 'cool to be spotted at' places.

It was a weekend and we had planned on watching a movie. I was little early. I stood waiting near the railing of the quadrangle and glanced at the fancy names of new flavours of candy at the toffee shop. I noticed some stylishly dressed, elaborately made up middle aged women with chandelier ear rings, high heels and trendy outfits. I remembered what my class guys back in school used to call these ladies who tried to look hep and young. ACF. Aunty Cum Figure. Memories of high school and one ACF whom we had made maximum fun of made me smile. I noticed somebody looking in my direction.

From the corner of my eye I saw he was coming towards me. He looked like one of those who could come up with creative lines. As I waited curiously, I heard a "Hey have we met?" Disappointed, I said I didn't think so. "You resemble a friend. I was wondering if you could tell me where screen 2 is. I'm kinda lost." I didn't understand if he was trying to be flirtatious or he was plainly dumb. There are directions all over big and clear. Nevertheless I politely directed him. "Do you believe in love at first sight of should I walk past by a few more times?" was written at the back of his T. Atleast his T had a better line. He turned around and winked when he was at a safe distance. Duh! Some cheek he has got I thought. Before I could react friends joined and we rushed to our screen.

I'm not a big fan of Superman. I knew it would be like the comics only. I had laughed even at the idea of watching our swadeshi boy performing similar super natural stunts. Krrissh (or however that it is spelt. I don't get this numerology and all that. Ekta Kapoor has named some soap of hers as Kkusum cos K is supposed to be lucky it seems. Whenever I see that ad I try to pronounce it in SRK's stammering style.) Still, there I was sitting, geared up for 'Superman returns'.

I haven't studied ballistics in forensic medicine that well. Some kind of a powerful bullet is directed at our hero's eye. It hits his lens and the bullet is totally shattered!! (Rajnikanth could flick some ideas.) Ta tada!! That's superman. There was this another scene where he is lying in the hospital. The heroine is about to kiss him. Full fledged smooching sounds from the audience. It was cheap but I couldn't help giggling. Adlabs is little posh, so no laser lights on skimpily clad females on the screen. There wasn't much skin show in this particular one anyway. The comments, laughter and the movie to some extent was entertaining. Plus I had to enjoy it. 60 whole bucks for the ticket! That too just 3 rows away from the screen.

"As a student, watching movies from stalls builds character" my uncle says. I am building quite a bit of that these days.

PS: I realise my blog titles are getting li'l too monotonous these days. No more MMMs, WWWs. Promise. And hey! My site turns a month old today.

Bend it like Ballack!

My friend had kept some place for me next to her in the packed TV room. She asked me who I was gonna support. I didn't know. I was neutral. My doubts regarding the game are far too basic sometimes. My pals of the opposite sex get impatient. So I save all of them to ask her. Plus I don't have to worry about sounding stupid. Argentina made a goal. Frenzy in the hall! I didn't know football was so popular among the girls.

When last ten minutes were left, Germany was still on zero. The victory was almost certain. But you never know what happens in a game of football. I wanted Germany to score one. I didn't care who won. I wanted drama. I love it when a match ends in a penalty shoot out. They did score a goal. I so very much enjoy checking out the team's reaction after goals are scored. Whenever we caught glimpses of Ballack there were many "Aww.. So cute"s. I was wee bit partial to Germany because of him.

Extra 30 minutes also got over. It was still 1-1. Penalty shoot out. Yippie!! Both the teams were superb. It was a great match. They should have met in the semis atleast I thought. Full puppy face expression on the Argentinians. I felt quite bad for them. Hysteria followed in our hall after the match. Some girls even almost started crying! I looked at them and wanted to laugh. I rolled my eyes exactly like that emoticon does on the Y! messenger and hoped one of them saw me. Some people overdo this so much. Just because soccer is supposed to be yo and all. I don't remember seeing anybody cry when India lost to the Aussies in the WC. Ok, I wasn't in this hostel then. But still this seemed pseudo to me. I got little irritated and got back to my room.

My usually quiet heavy porcelain butterflies in the chime gently collided against each other and merrily filled the room with pleasant jingles. There was strong wind and it started to pour. Breeze in my hair and the rain.. 2 things which almost always manage to buoy me up. I went to the balcony to watch the rain. I sat staring and was wondering where to fit it under in Forrest Gump's classification. 'Big fat rain' i thought. It was beautiful and smelt great.

The weather is completely eccentric. When it decides to be harsh, it will even make you resort to taking electrolytes cos of the dehydration. Then there are these bulky downpours. Monsoons in Mangalore is an experience in itself. I sat there feeling the spray on my face. I love the rain. It makes me so peppy and animated. I remembered reading somewhere that Charlie Chaplin loved walking in the rain cos nobody could see his tears.

As I got convinced that the week wasn't totally devoid of something bloggable, the sound of the falling drops lulled me to slumber.