Bade hoke kya banoge……’Kuch Nahi’!!!

This blog is straight from the heart of a ToyBanker! And its place truly belongs to the toybank site <blog.toybank.co.in>. The only reason it finds its place here is because this blogger is a Toybanker himself.

The future of My Country…

‘Hi’ said Shweta, ‘this is Anu’. A few mins later we were walking out of one of Mumbai’s best western suburb mall. No Breakfast and lunch had made them hungry. As we walked back, we saw the three huge apartment complexes being built, they had the raw look with a shade of dust around. This was our destination, right where Rustomjee Elanza was now rising.

We found our way around. Drove into the huge large black gates. The guard asked us to park the van right next to the gates, the driver then asked him to let us to the school. As we made our way through the short dusty road, I saw a building made of bricks, it wasn’t finished. A small head peeped out of the door and vanished in another second.

‘Aur bachhe hain?’ shweta asked. ‘Sab ko bula lo’ she continued. Off went one of the youngsters who looked older than the rest. ‘Mission sab ko bula lo’ now had a go-go. The teacher in the mean time managed getting all the kids in one room. Hritik Roshan, Khushboo, Laltush, Asadur, Rinku, Jyosna Sapidul, Piya, Medina, Imran, Pramila, Mamta, Sibu sat in front of my eyes now. One of them caught my attention; she had these strange green eyes. There a sudden flash of the National Geographic cover page from the Afghan war. I was back again, looking straight into the eyes of each one of them. She was one of the few people whom Gautam caught in his frame. He today was all set to capture a billion emotions. Few smiled, few avoided, some just stared…endlessly into my eyes. It was a very strange feeling. A very very strange feeling…I had in front of me a select future of my country. There I was; looking at them as a toybanker! Hoping to bring a smile on their face, hoping to give them a part of their childhood which they rightfully deserved, hoping to make a difference. And yes, Hritik Roshan was the name of a kid, mother of whose was a die hard fan of the Bollywood hero!

‘Chalo taali maaro’ and soon everyone’s hand went up in sync. This amused me to no extent. Reminded me of P.T at school. This was probably the teacher’s way of bringing in a sense of discipline. He was back now, having, managed 5 to 6 more kids. The teacher said ‘Bangali ko nahi bulaya, maratha ko bhi nahi bulaya…‘. States seemed to have divided our population everywhere.

Sahil and I now decide to take a walk through the hutments…or should I say ‘Modern Hutments’. As I walked through them I saw dim huts, I could see a small baby in one. The mother moved inside while I walked through. Some smiled from inside.  “Bacchon ko bhejo” I would say, “Bhej diya” would come as the reply as I would see two fragile legs finding some space in a corner in the house trying to avoid my sight. Marina was lying there on her mother’s lap. She smiled, I said “Issko school leke jaana hai”. “Uske bhai gayen hain” “Toh kya hua, isse bhi le ke jaana hai”. She nodded her head. Went in, I could hear some utensils moving. A red short and a white t-shirt in had. Marina was now out of the house, while her mother tried to cover her up with clothes. I could see an injury on her hand, a cut on her legs. I looked around. It was just metal all around. I looked no further. I held out my little finger. Marina looked up in amazement. But she held on to it immediately. We walked, but then I realized she couldn’t match her baby steps to my gigantic ones. So I picked her up and held her in my arms. I smiled, and thought “No susu okay” J

While we were making an exit Sahil showed me this corner and said “there are kids there too. But you will have to call them”. I walked up there. There were loads of men around, there was some kind of fear, but then I smiled, and they smiled back. I said “Bacchon ko School le ke chalna hai”. A lady got out of the hut; she had a typical Bengali black tika. There was a boy of about 8 yrs in age and right next to her sat this small girl. The lady called out “Payal, chalo school”, so Payal moved in. I asked for the boy to get dressed too but she said the boy was unwell, I walked up to him and put my hand on his forehead, he was running temperature. “Haan isko Bukhar hai” I said. In a second Payal peeped out of the door and she said “Amake o Bukhar ache”. Ah, the Bengali family I thought. Thanks to my birth in the eastern part of my country I did catch up with a language close to Bengali. So I shot out a few sentences in Oriya and soon the lady had both Payal and her brother dressed up walking towards the School.

Back in the school I now saw new kids who had joined the bunch. My eyes swept through the room. Four kids who lay along the wall were sound asleep. I smiled. It was off course an obvious thing to happen. The school unlike the tin shed hutments was with a brick roof automatically making it the coolest place in the whole construction site. No wonder each one of them would relish catching a nap in the corners.

Shweta and another Toybanker had now got everyone in a circle. Shweta then announced, we are here only and only to have fun. Yes, that was out sole objective. We were there to have loads of fun in that 20*20 feet room that we had to ourselves. The volunteers were now with the kids, making merry, talking and smiling. The music went up and we tried passing the parcel. The music stopped and Asadur, probably the eldest kid there was asked to dance. He did but to only a nice song. His ambition as he quoted towards the end of the day was to be a dancer.  I stood right at the door. Looking at each one of them, my eyes stopped at Rinku as he pulled his short about the knee. I saw a dark black patch. It was an injury which had gone dry now. I looked away; I walked out to catch some fresh air. As I stood there gazing at the tall structures, Shweta walked out “Tu kya yahan statue of liberty ki tarah khada hai”. I just smiled, I was lost in thoughts.

Chintan had now arrived with his bank of goodies. Books, food, pens and stationery. FOOD! J

We smuggled all of it through a window to one of the other rooms. The kids now were in a free dance mode. The 20/20 feet room had transformed into one of those hundred discotheques that the rich and famous visited. The only difference being that this one was had no lights except for sunlight. There were no 1000 watt speakers but just a television which doubled up as speakers. This was pure happiness, a source of letting go their fears, living the moment. The room fell short for the madness. They were jumping all over, falling on each other, climbing on each others feet, but then there were just smiles all around. Sheer bliss!

One of them wanted to leave. We as volunteers tried resisting. But he just wanted to. A minute later he was back. He pointed towards his toe. There was blood. The numerous open iron rods were the cause. I asked for a first aid kit, there was none. The driver of the van suggested putting some engine oil on it! I froze, dumbstruck. I washed his feet; he said there was a first aid kit in the office. He left for the same. It is an amazing fact, there seemed to be no pain, no hurt, no emotions and neither any regret in his eyes as he left. I compared it to what a much smaller injury to me would do to the world around me. This was a stark contrast. I was yet again left with no words, no thoughts. Probably the N^th time in the day!

The toy distribution started. Neatly wrapped toys in newspapers made their way from big brown carton boxes to tiny little hands. Hands which probably never seen anything close to a toy. There were smiles, a few clapped, I wonder how many of them knew what exactly lay in there hands. But there was genuine excitement. But then there was this look that I saw in a few eyes. It wasn’t happiness, there wasn’t any joy, there seemed to be a question for which there were no answers. A question which was a simple “Why?” “Why did it take so long for them to come” “Why didn’t we ever know a toy existed” “ Why only now”.  We had brought a smile, we had got them a part of their child hood which they rightfully deserved, and we had made a difference. We don’t know how long would the memory last, we don’t know how long the happiness would last but then a small part had been played.

Things inside had changed now. The volunteers were now noting down the names of the kids for the database. We captured the name, the age and the interest. The ages varied. The interest though was being asked as a question…”Bade hoke kya banoge…”. “Kuch Nahi” was the first reply, “Kuch nahi” was the second, “Kuch Nahi” was the third. I close my eyes, whom do I blame? Whom do I blame but I. For a world that lay beyond these tall structures, for they shall not be there to see it. For them the world rallied between places of construction, cement, iron railings, helmet and tin sheds. There was noise, lot of noise in my head. It was not I, but WE were to blame. “Bade hoke kya banoge…” “Police” “Teacher” “Doctor”. I saw hope, I saw our future. There were 37 kids who registered; there were 8 ambitions, 3 police officers, 1 actor, 1 teacher, 1 dancer and 2 doctors. They were my hope and along with them the 29 others were my hope. I could not give up on them. They are what we are. A small thought but a true fact. In them lay our country, in their smiles, in their ambition, in their joy and in their hope.

The kids hurried off home. The toybanker’s sat back. There were quick updates, I was still thinking. We left, to meet again some day, to get them their smiles, to get them their deserved rights.

Happy Toybanking & Eid Mubarak!

PS: Asadur came back while the toybankers caught up. His toy was incomplete. It was a board game. He had a request “Car”. This one thing that I knew in a second that I would not give him. I pulled out a game of brainvita. A warning of “no goli” to be played. I explained the game. Told “Deemag wala hai”. He was not convinced. “Deemag to hai, yeh nahi chahiye”. I challenged him. He said “two games, one marble on the board”. I said “ok, we then go to the mall and get you the car. We were four games down, there were four marbles on the board. I left him with my phone number and a promise to see him this Saturday. If he leaves the board with one marble, he gets the “Car” and probably another challenge. He noted my mobile number. I noted his down. I await his missed call. I live with a hope that my phone rings now, and it reads “Asadur”. This is hope, this is faith, this is belief, this is what a toy can do to a child.

The Voices Within…

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Tomorrow was 14^th Feb 1999. It was the familiar walk down the hill as we did each day. Things were a bit different though. We spoke very little; we hardly exchanged any full sentences. We slowly reached the bridge that we had fondly called the ‘good-bye bridge’. And then; I spoke with my eyes looking anywhere but into hers.  “Sweety, we are just kids. When you leave this tiny place and get out you would realize that all this that we talk as love is nothing but infatuation”.  She looked straight into my eyes, like she could just see through me. I knew what they said, but I didn’t let the thoughts dwell any further, “I know all this might sound just like Greek but I mean it, it will take time and a different place for you to understand”. She was still looking through me, as if I was nothing at all. There were thoughts in my head. It was those rumors that had made home my mind. It wasn’t good for me to handle him any more. I had lost trust. That for me was the end. I walked away. We were not to meet till we would return having properly prepared for the language “English” for what we had called the exam of our lives!

Today is sometime in 2009. It’s been 10 years. She realized; what I said was what she did. I still let rumors dwell in my mind. Life has changed. We have changed. Memories remain. Rumors have changed! Voices remain…

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Vrinda and I used to meet online almost every day. We knew nothing on how we looked, what we were, how we were, we were just friends. We typed in a few words every day on a huge white screen in front of us and we could just connect. Vrinda is for me one of the most genuine people I know. With a million muscles in her face, every thought in her head had a different expression, it would either be a twitch or a grin or a half smile or it could even be an elongated out of proportion cartoon face. I could some times see the expression in her words.

We spoke family. A family that we never had seen beyond our speechless pets. She spoke and I simply listened. I spoke and she listened. There was rebellion, I sought understanding, there was discomfort, I sought happiness in it, there was sadness, and I sought life within it. I sought, she felt.

Months later we met, she thought I would be like “this”. “Vrinda, I was like this. But I didn’t remain to be like this”. She had some day built a me, a very different me from what I got to be.

“You are never there for me when I need you the most.” she said. I dwelled upon it for sometime. But then I let go the thought, till it came visiting again a few weeks later. Today there is despair, for being around but yet not being there. Vrinda is still a girl of emotions. She still has her own expectations that I have never been able to understand. Expectations that I fear I will never be able to understand. I don’t know if I do. It’s getting a bit cold. The fear shall persist, the emotions will persist, and the voices will persist.  

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Gudiya was probably the best thing that happened to me ever. There was joy, love, fondness and happiness. These voices are probably the most visited, they are just too quite. I don’t let them dwell for long, I just shoo them away.

There is unjust & extreme helplessness. I need to let these out some day…some day…maybe today. This is about the darker me, I lost my way, but I was no child. I probably lost it on purpose. It was a phase, a bad one which I realize today. Gudiya brought me alive. She was there in my morning yawn, my work, my breath, my sleep. Being there was slowly taken for granted. I went blind to the happiness. As Muskaan once said ‘the world around had got into my head’. She walked away and I didn’t stop her...I made her walk away.

In my list of mistakes in my life, this probably is the greatest.

I am failing again, am closing down. I don’t want to talk about it yet again. There is this feeling. Something I haven’t ever been able to express. Nalini says “It shall remain a feeling that shall eat you up each day. Unless you let go of it…someday” It does. There at times, is no thought of having done good or bad. It is but just extreme contempt of my actions, which can easily bring silence in my life.

I wish there was something that came into my life and said ‘It’s all right, it’s all right’; hold me tight, there is none; hug me tight, there is none; share some light, there is none….in the end.

This voice has always had an abrupt ending just like this one is. I don’t let them show. I scream, I yell, I listen to noises around, I shut my self up, I go….silent…dead silent!

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Nalini was the happy go lucky girl. It was about 2030 hrs when the phone rang. The voice was shrill. It just asked me to see her as soon possible. I sprang out of the bed. I left the door open; I just screamed as I walked by in the corridor, “Watch my room, its open”. I could hear a couple of faint “F.O’s”.

Nalini stood there on the pavement. She seemed tight, frozen and scared. She scared me!  I hugged her. There was just one request ‘Please be around. I’ll need you more than ever’. I assured her. An assurance which I didn’t realize then, I was not going to stand by.

It’s a feeling of having completely let down someone. Am tired of the feeling. I have failed many a times, not just with Nalini but with many others. It is strange that I fail even with this realization.

It makes me wonder if it was me and just me. And each time I end up with a yet simple conclusion that yes it was just me. I don’t know if it’s real.

I don’t know if its true, but Nalini had this picture, that’s were built on hopes, expectations and the outer me. With time it got shattered. The hopes & expectations became nothing but nothing. As each day passes I know the distance is increasing, I can’t help it. My actions brought them onto me. I sometimes see an end to Nalini and Me. There was a wall that I had built her with me in it; today I seem to be living out of it.  It’s me who has inhibitions…am living with it, pushing away thoughts, moment and voices…

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We were meeting almost after a year and half, she was one of the innumerable crushes that we had. We spoke over coffee and through the drive. She surprised me with Muskaan. Describing Muskaan was never as easy as she put it in the first go. “She and you must be one of those people who never had to talk much. Eyes must be helping you complete incomplete sentences. Smiles must be speaking unsaid words. A different wavelength altogether”.

I just smiled and smiled and smiled.

Muskaan was a friend who is just that. We had our own fights, our ego tussles, our gyaan sharing sessions, our fun moments, our fist fights and our memories. She made me believe that the solution to any noise is a hug, but never practiced the same. I don’t know if the fights and the tussles are good or bad. But I know they were existent for a purpose. Putting life in a plate as it is without any dressing, we seemed to have come our way. There was a past, where there was ignorance, and a feeling of being unwanted. There is a future with a fear of the same.

It scared me at times, the proximity. Voices asked me to move away, I looked for reasons. I knew they would come naturally some day. It is a part of life, they would. Things have always been different with Muskaan and the cam only be said through my eyes and smiles!

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Voices are a bit different now, there is clarity & strength.  I make no hopes, I make no expectations, and I make no assurances. I am just a belief, there is fear, not of the future, but the past. The warm summer breeze, the refreshing autumn drizzle, the chilly winter breeze, there are voices going separate ways, they tell me different things, of the paths that I took or the paths that I shall take. There are so many reasons, there were so many hopes, there are so many memories there were expectations, I Am Just A Voice. A VOICE…

The saga called “life”

A friend of mine vowed to be a mariner all his life; today he is taking a certification course in criminal psychology. A cousin of mine hoped she adopts a girl child and dreamt of being in the senior management of a company; today she has changed three jobs, has a son who refuses to agree to have an adopted sister. My mother wanted to go on a world tour but she got married to my dad (!) who doesn’t want to step foot outside India. My mother wants to still go on a world tour; but she’s given up hope. My mom wanted to be a veterinarian doctor but she’s treated animals with the most evolved brains for the last 40 years. A friend wanted to be a dancer, she today handles human resources at one of the worlds leading applications provider. A colleague wished to have a 5 day week job; he now works for 18 hrs on the floor of a retail store on weekends. A senior at high school planned to get married at the age of 22; he is today a bachelor at 35. My brother wanted to become a doctor; today he works in the nanotechnology industry. My colleague who promised that my organization would be his first and last employer; got fired today. A cousin who was too happy to finally get married some time last year; found his ‘would be’ missing from home a few hours before the wedding. My seniors at the b-school thought of starting a financial services company on passing out; today they work in a power, oil, retail and telecommunication company respectively. I had decided names with my ex; today she is married to a different person. The 4th largest IT oriented company in this country; is considered to be the biggest corporate scandal in the country today. A couple that got married two months back, got shot by terrorists on their first night. I dreamt to be a doctor, an astronaut, a fighter pilot, a nuclear scientist, a world traveler, a movie actor , I ended up as a marine engineer and then I quit becoming a retailer! But I still dream of teaching.

A vaccine being tried out on mice today; became the world first vaccine against AIDS tomorrow. The car I saw stuck in the traffic while I started writing this statement; is flying in the air now! AIBO was created today, he has a family tomorrow. My friend who got married today is on a honey moon at the moon tomorrow! Cancer the most frequent cause of death today is removed from the medicine books tomorrow for lack available cases of existence. Oxford English dictionary today, became oxford Chinese dictionary tomorrow. I walk to office today; I sail to my office tomorrow. I type this blog today, your listen to this tomorrow. My friend is studying criminal psychology today; he’s the world’s foremost profiler tomorrow. My cousin has worked for an IT company today; she heads a IT start up tomorrow. My mother is in Hyderabad today; she just landed in Venice tomorrow. My HR friend today; won the national award for her contribution to the dance form of Kathak tomorrow. The colleague of mine working 18 hrs today; works for Mitsubishi Motors Corp. in Japan 4 days a week. My bachelor senior today; got married at 36 tomorrow. My colleague who got fired today, vowed to join the company tomorrow. A cousin whose bride ran away today, found true love tomorrow. The just married couple that got shot by terrorists today; are together somewhere tomorrow This blog I wrote today wins me the best blog of the year award tomorrow. I still dream of teaching!!

Characters of life…..they leave behind imprints that build on and on and finally are called life!! Life of course throws its own tantrums at us. Some hit us hard, some miss, we avoid some, some just pass by and some are just handled; but each one of them leaves a twist or a turn or a speed bump in this journey called life!
Life…..Enjoy till it lasts….

Wikipedia on Life
“Life is a characteristic of organisms that exhibit certain biological processes such as chemical reactions or other events that results in a transformation.”

Pardesi Pardesi jaana nahi…

these are not the ones that you see in mumbai…these are rather blue in color…more spacious as they have less seats and a bit cleaner…there arent any wooden seats…they are cushioned…its neither fast nor slow…there is no churchgate station nor VT…its isnt considered the life line of the city as yet…there are no automatic human pushes to get u in and out of the trains…

She, though is still the same…she walks in with an elegance..something she seems to have been mastered over the months she has been one these…she is clad in a shabby skirt…her hair unmade, is falling onto her face…her hands are fragile…she is bare feet…she has a slight bulge on her elbow…its a cut…she might have picked it up when she fell from the trains on to the platform…she has an expression which reads am hungry…she looks around. looking straight into the eyes of each one of us …she has this bag hung on one of the shoulders…i see it has a bottle in it…its water…she wud need it…her throat goes dry more often than does ours…the train moves….it makes a lot of noise…right on top of my head is the great indian railway fan…the noise it makes is rhythmic…it does have the capability to put me to sleep…i look back at her…she roams around and then takes a position in the coach…still standing…she slowly crosses her legs…places her hips delicately onto one of the edges of the seat…she seems lost to me…but may be she isnt…she must be thinking…her hand goes inside the bag on her shoulder…she looks to be searching for something…her hand moves from one edge of the bag to the other…she has a small expression of delight…she sees me looking at her…she knows i am thinking…her hands come off the bag…and i see two falt pieces of stones in her hand….i now know what is coming next…thanks to my innumerable local train journeys in the city of mumbai i today know what it is…she slides the pieces in between her fingers as if it was a ritual…she then adjusts them delicately on her fingers…she looks up one last time…a deep breath goes in…i see her chest and stomach bulge out…and then in a second i hear a faint “pardesi pardesi jana nahii…mujhe chod ke…” she is singing her loudest…it doesnt matter how good is she at it…she is just singing…some ppl hardly get to hear it…the train and the fan were louder…she carried on…time instantaneoulsy went back a few yrs…its the same…just that it is a rather crowded local…i see a small girl…fragile hands..shabby skirt..unmade hair…singing the same song…same old song…in a second i am back to the present…she is still singing…i can harldy hear her out…she stops…the stones go back into her bag.. she turns around…walks to a passenger…raises her hand with her fingers crept in…i can read her lips say saab. he looks at her and gives a crooked face…no..she doesnt ask him again…moves to the next passenger…he bends to one side…slides his hand into one of his pockets…then to the other…looks back at her and says “change nahi hai“….all this while she looks at him with a rarefied expression…i find hard to put it down here…its like a picture that cannot be explained..i just wish i cud…its seems to be full of hope but yet its seems pessimistic… she knows the rules of nature…the longer the search for anything the harder it is to find!…she moves on..someone drops a coin on her hand…she smiles or rather she tries…the coin goes into her bag…its a smooth transition…she is comin to wards me…how do i tell her i dont encourage begging in any sense…she says saab…i look into her eyes….naam kya hai…aazmi…kab se gaa rahi ho…do hafte ho gaye…aakeli ghoomti ho….nahi aami bhi aati hain, lekin woh bimaar hain…abba kahan hain…woh mumbai mein kaam karte hain….i am lost for a min…i hear a saab again…saaaaab…i get back to real life…bhook lagi hai…my hands move into my pockets involuntarily…i pull out all the change and drop it into her hands…she isnt happy…nor is she sad…she moves on to the other passenger…i look out of the window…blank…i can feel the air whistling on my cheeks…its been a long time since i could feel this way…my stop approaches…i get up to get to the door…she is now at the other half of the compartment…the stones in her hand…i can see her lips moving but i cant hear her…the train stops at the station….the voice gets clearer….i can hear her go ‘pardesi pardesi…jaana nahi…mujhe chod ke…mujhe chod ke…….LIFE! moves on…

Tiny ants walking on the Ocean

Its been long since i have left the seas…below is something i wrote when i just got off one. goes out for thousands of people saying in the middle of nowhere, for their guts, their will power, their honesty, their hardwork and their life. Kudos to each one of them.

C/o- Chief officer, 2/o-Second officer….3/E third engineer…E/O- electrical officer

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28th July 2003 I reported at the company office and it was 2nd September when I was told “you are going on Campeche”. The whole night of 2nd September was spent collecting information about the vessel. Called friends and some seniors to find out “who” from the college had sailed on this vessel earlier. When I finally did here was what I was told. “You will find a cool crew on board, the vessel is 15yrs old, and sea water leakages await you”.

8th September 2003. 0900 Hrs, I was standing right in front of her. She was really huge, was actually losing her weight. Having no idea what was going to come next I just hoped for the best. The third officer (3/o) showed me my cabin. In 5 mins I was down there in the engine room in my boiler suit. We were taking in bunker (Fuel for the vessel).

Scene-I

The Chief engineer (C/e) said, “From today onwards the Second engineer 2/e is your mummy and daddy on board”

Scene-II

The 2/e says, “Emergency exits to the star board side on every floor. Go take a round!” And hence A JOURNEY STARTED…..

It happened two days later, was coming out of the bilges after tracing a pipe line, something every trainee engineer will keep doing. I felt this light spray of water on my face. I looked up to find this crack on one of the pipelines. Had no idea what that line was meant for. I simply panicked because the first thing that came to my mind was that the pipeline was going to burst. (OK folks this is the one and only time that you can call me dumb) I ran the fastest in my life to reach the top floor, panting I told the 2/E “Sir, there is this line where from there is lots of water spraying”. Was damn astonished to see how cool he was, “Is it falling on any motor?” he asked. I replied in the negative. The fitter was then asked to look into the matter. I later realized that the line was the fire line that had been charged with water for deck washing. But what I concluded was NEVER PANIC. It doesn’t help!!

Days passed by; initially I was a mere spectator at work. I was to have the knowledge of what and where the tools were mostly kept, so that I can get them to the work place if required. Believe me I hated it when I had to climb three floors to get a tool. That actually enthused me to learn the work as fast as I could because if I did I knew I would hence be seldom asked to get the tools or rather I personally would make sure that all the required tools were taken along. The C/E once said “the trainee engineer is the spinal cord of the engine department”. I had to make myself friendly to the engine room. Fundamentally put all five senses that one has to use. And if possible the 6th one too…your intuition, this was something that my C/E and 2/E always reminded me off.

The crew that I sailed with was excellent in all sense, pick any one from any of the departments and he was a great individual. The greatest influences on me were the 4/E and the captain, basically because I was lucky enough to talk to them a lot. I naturally opened up in front of them. Told them about my past, they were well aware of my present and neither did I know about my future. Each time I had talk with them I would learn something new as to work on board. I can confidently bet that it shall be long before I sail with officers of such kind. Talking to the captain felt damn good, actually when you are far away from home you obviously do become independent but then it’s just the ripe age when one is learning to live like that. So having him talk to me sometimes made me feel like at home. There were times when I was in one my worst lows and I would happen to talk to me. It did relieve me. It wasn’t that the other officers never talked to me. But that was at a lesser frequency. But every thing that each one of them said made a difference. The topic varied, right from parents to girlfriends, right from marine techie stuff to the latest gizmos in the market, right from infatuations to marriage, right from politics in India to politics on board!! The list is endless.

Each one of the officers taught me something. The captain when frequently talking to me would study my body language. He taught me to be observant; he shared with me his experiences on shipping. How it treats individuals out there in the open seas and in the market. I was the kiddo onboard. The C/E was someone with loads of experience. During tea breaks I was to sit 4 mtrs away from where the rest would sit. I was not instructed to but I kept a watch on certain crucial parameters on the control panel. It was during this time that my body was at this place but my ears would be trying their best to hear what the topic of discussion amongst them was. I was no spy at work, but it so happened that at times the topic of discussion would be something technical. Nevertheless that I heard half of what they spoke but when the C/E spoke of something I always wanted to listen, you never know, when, where and why would it come handy. The 2/E was very patient he had a very nice of explaining how the work had to be done. He would at times hold me back after work and give me this “food for thought”. They were basically questions that I had to find answers of. He then would also talk about how I should prepare for my exams and how life treats people in this profession, or how my mental framework should be like. He at times would find me at the alleyway and then call me into his cabin. There I would have a can of coke and lots of peanuts. Talk about some or the other thing. This helped me break the monotony of evry evening.

My 3/E taught me devotion to work. He was excellent at his work. Experience made him a master of speed and perfection in his job. I still remember his words “Everyone is excellent in retrospection of a problem, but out here in the middle of the sea what matter is what you think is the best solution to a current problem and then EXECUTE it!!” The 4/E, he taught me how to live out here. He told me his experiences as a 5/E. He taught me his work. He was my inspiration for sheer will power and determination. His cabin was always open for me. When he would be on his watch and I was hungry I would sneak into his cabin, smuggle a can of chilled coke and hunt of some eatables, listen to some music and then leave. The E/O was very efficient. He took his time in a problem but as always was bang at the target of the problem. Sometimes when I made faults officers on board were equally vocal, like the day when the 2/O used to these words for me “I have observed this resistance to authority in you, do you have some kind of problem?” Initially I had this great feeling of regret hearing this, but then I did look at it the other way round too. Why was such a comment made in first place? There is no smoke without fire. Having figured it out I made sure the comment suited me no more. One of the oilers also once said “You get angry very fast. Try controlling it. You have a long way to go in life.” I never asked him I had improved when I was leaving but hopefully I did.

There were two families on board. The C/e’s and C/o’s. I would come across them during Lunch and Dinner. Here the C/o’s daughter would steal the show, hyperactive and damn talkative and full of energy. Having food with her would always have the company of laughter. I do remember what the C/o’s wife once said “It’s rare to see people on board smile always, you are one of them, do continue so”. I did try my best to do that. The C/e’s wife would always have this full hearted gracious smile, wishing her during lunch and dinner had this strange effect on me. It would just make me feel so light! That I realized in days to come was because her reply would always have the characteristic smile along with it. There are off course time when you face the ire of your seniors simply because you are the only one on whom it can be vented out. I would rather put it this way…the anger onboard flows down the chain of command. As time passed by the crew changed but call it my luck the character of the crew remained the same. The seniors guided me well. Each had a different way of letting things known. Should quote what the captain once told me “Work hard, eat hard, sleep hard and take bullshit”. Jokes apart but follow this; it’s the golden rule for initial survival on board.

It isn’t that rosy after all, life at sea can get very monotonous, something we are aware of as we take up a course to head out here. We need to have our own innovative means of entertaining ourselves, reading books, listening to music, movieholic being a few. I remember deliberately prolonging my lunch and dinner on the table. There was a reason behind it; it was here that we would have open for all discussions. And I enjoyed every bit of being a part of it. In the middle of no where one shall have his or her own share of lows, its not only the new joiner who feels that way. After all each one of us is humane. Each of them comes out here with a right to miss their family, girlfriends, friends and enemies too. Memories related to them make an obligatory daily visit. A sense of insecurity for people in close relationships does come haunting at times. And man has to learn to cope with it. I was told stories of certain relationships getting lost in the air due to the long time spent at the sea. It gives a feeling that people ashore do not miss the individual as much as he/she does. I hoped that it wasn’t true and even if it was, may it never happen to me. Workload at times tires you out. It can lead one into depression. But then getting out of it leaves you mentally stronger. Appreciation is rare to find and that comes rarely out here. I frankly starved for it. I remember this one time when I tried my hand at welding while the fitter was looking upon me. He said “With no practice seeing the way you weld asserts you are good at it”. I was on the moon. I remember what my dad said once “if you hate something but have to live with it, then change the way you look at it” and so I did. There are two ways of looking at work right “good” and “bad”. Out here in the middle of the sea sitting on 60000 m3 of LPG there is only one way of doing things…GOOD! Everyone’s work reflects on the other. So when a job is done it should be assumed it has been done well. Seems like a too optimistic approach to work, probably it was….

This is the fourth plain paper I had scribbled on. I have the window seat on a BA flight. The person next to me has asked the air hostess to get him his 7th can of coke. I smile at her. She does the same and asks “Anything for you”… “water” I say. She leaves. I look through the window. I am in the middle of Atlantic on my way from the land of America to Heathrow. Which shall take me back HOME. I see tiny ants walking on the ocean below. They are vessels on their transatlantic voyage. One of them could be LPG/c Harriette N. I know, the work that must be on. The Fourth engineer would be sleeping, the 2nd engineer would be in the engine room. Off boarding the ship there were a mixed bag of emotions. I was happy I was heading back home. To hug my parents and to kiss my girlfriend, but then I know what each of those waving hands which remained on board said. I know the next time I head to another vessel I shall be very confident. But my emotions shall remain the same. I get up from my seat. Open the cabinet for my hand back. I open it and I see a bunch of 12 envelopes, each one from each crew member. Each one has loads of memories being sent back home. I put in these four papers below them. The next day I arrive at Hyderabad in India. I hug my parents. And before we could sit down, I pick my bike keys, head straight to the nearest courier office. Off I send the memories. Miss you Lady Sea.

Hate to love….and beyond

I feel the warmth under the sheets. I can hear the drops of water hitting my steel balcony roof. I hear the alarm. My hands move, cutting through the thin, humid, wet air and land on the phone. I put off the alarm. My eyes are yet to open. I slide down the sheet slowly; my eyes sense the darkness give way to some light. It still is pretty dark around. I turn to the other side of the bed and look through the window. It’s dark clouds all around. I look closer; she lies in between, completely naked. I smile at her. She still is sleepy, but she smiles back. A mix of early morning freshness and childish innocence erupts on her face.  I hate her…

It’s now been more than an hour since my eyes are wide open. She on the other hand is working on getting me wet, I know am getting late. I look at my watch…I rush. I reach my place of work. Seems like a busy day as usual. Everyone here likes her a lot, some in fact love her. She’s been around for a long time. The day passes and it’s Lunch. I head to the canteen. She’s been with me all day long. I strike a conversation with the “mama” who gets me food. He too is in complete awe with her. She is beautiful he says. I question her beauty silently! He thanks her for their survival. She is standing right in front, her back facing me, her spine distinct. Everyone seems to falls for this sight, simply swearing by it, something even I would.

A few hours later work gets over; I head to the famous Juhu beach. The sun is setting. There are dark clouds all over. It’s a beautiful sight. The darkness of the sky and the water is divided by a thin strip of the pink horizon. I walk on the sand. My pants folded from the bottom till my knees, shoes in my hand. The waves hit on my feet. The water trickles down between my toes, washing away the sand. She’s joins me. We walk together. I have the sea on one side, while she walks along the other. I can feel the strong winds whistling past my ears. We walk silently, no conversations are picked up. She lets me live in my thoughts!

I look away from her. There are people everywhere. Each one seems to be lost in their world of thoughts. There are couples sitting on rocks. Arms in arms they stare into the sea, lost in moments of love. A father is walking on the sand while his kid daughter is all over the place. “Tamanna” he calls out, “Walk carefully sweetheart”. She sees me, walks closer. She looks straight into my eyes. I smile at her. Her finger gets into her scrambled hair. She giggles, turns around and runs back to her dad. It’s a strange feeling that sets in. As if life’s comes to a standstill. I revisit my childhood. I take a peep into the future (it was blank!). I look endlessly towards the sea. It’s rough, its dark and its dangerous. I smirk; the sea suddenly seems to be reflecting my life! The night has set in the waves with white crests seem to be disappearing into the sand. The sky on the other side has got its characteristic orange tint.

Moments later I bid her good bye, she promises to join me soon. I spend some more time along the coast, moments later am soon heading towards marine drive. A Street there houses my favorite ice-cream joint. I pick a cup of the darkest chocolate ice-cream and head to the coastline. My blank stare towards the sea is broken by a small tingle. I turn around. She’s back. It’s is now that she looks her best, all dressed up of the night. The necklace she wears adds sparkle to her majestic charm. Her shoulders and the neck suddenly draw all the attention. The curves are distinctly visible. Subhaan Allah!

There is a breeze that blows past my face. Tiny droplets of water fall on my spectacles. I call out to a black-yellow cab. “Churchgate”, ne nods. I open the door and slide in. He is playing the latest Bhojpuri songs. He reduces the volume and puts on a famous radio station. We start a conversation. He comes from a small village from Bihar. He’s made the city home for the last 6 years. There are lots like him, a few thousands he says. I ask him what brought him all the way long. He looks at her and smiles. I smile back. I have my answer.

I feel the warmth under the sheets. I can hear the drops of water hitting my steel balcony roof. My hands move, cutting through the thin humid, wet air and land on my mobile phone. I set the alarm. My eyes are wide open. I pull up the bed sheet slowly. It’s dark around. I turn to the other side of the bed and look through the window. I look closer; she lies in between, completely naked. She’s wide awake. And she is going to remain so for the whole night. I smile at her. She smiles back. I am falling in love with her. She is MUMBAI…its raining outside and she is getting people wet!

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I assume that most of my Mumbai readers would understand what I refer to as I go about the blog. But for people who are yet to put their feet on the soil of Mumbai here goes a little bit of help.

The Local train network is considered the back bone of Mumbai. The marine drive lights up in the night and the whole stretch is called the queen’s necklace. Juhu Chowpatty is probably India’s most visited shore strip. Reasons for which are better discovered rather being written about. Thank You.