The Postman's view

This is some time ago, when my sister and I were visiting my cousin M in Delhi. She and her hubby had recently shifted to a new apartment in Vasant Kunj. The place was new to us and we were having a hard time locating her home. Soon we at least found the apartments complex but were still struggling for 1029-A. Amidst our confusing arguments of locating it we heard the sound of a bicycle. As we turned around, we saw it was a postman carrying a load of envelopes and parcels and postage. For me, he was God sent. Without wasting a moment, I hurriedly walked up to him and asked, "Bhaiya, aapko yeh number maaloom hai kya?" (Do you know where this apartment is?) He stared at it for a moment and then after searching hastily through his postage, came up with an envelope with "Mamta Aswal, 1029-A, Sector C, Pkt D, Vasant Vihar, New Delhi-110070" written on it. "Is this the person?", he asked, and I nodded excitedly. Almost there I thought. Then he handed that envelope to me and said, "Ghar mil jaaye to yeh chitthi bhi de dena" (If you do find the apartment, hand over this to them as well).

(ps: We did find the apartment finally after realizing that all the apartments with odd noes were in one area and ones with even noes in another)

The Shatabdi train Episode

Its Saturday morning. My friend and I have to leave Delhi for another friend's wedding in Dehradun. We have booked our tickets for Shatabdi express. The train departure is scheduled for 7am. I stay the night at my friend's place so we can leave together early morning. We are out of the house next morning at 5:45am. Since we plan to be back Sunday evening, it makes sense to take her car and park it at the station. So we take the car. Also no crazy Auto wallahs or Taxi wallahs. 6:00am and we cross Connaught Place and now we are like 1/2 a mile away from the station. One red light (right in front of the station) and we are in. But wait, suddenly the traffic starts moving slowly and soon we realize that there is a traffic jam at the red light (this is the red light right in front of the station, you can actually throw a stone into the station boundary from here).

My panic level starts rising. What makes matters worse is that we are in our own car, so we can't dump it in the middle of the road. The place is like a maze and there is no space to move. Slowly the clock is ticking away. From 6 it is 6:15.. then 6:30 ..then 6:40. We are moving very slowly. We realize that there is no way to take the car into the station, so we decide to flow with the traffic. Finally we manage to get away from the red light and move towards the shops. There's a shopping market right off the road. We find a spot in front of a shop and although it's illegal to park, we stop there. Hopefully we'll be able to convince the shopkeeper. What else can we do? And as we are about to pick up our luggage and run for the station the shop owner comes along swearing in Haryanvi accent. Well, I am all panicky and mad and I tell my friend to ignore him. Its 6:55 am!!! We have to rush!!My friend is a calmer personality and does a good job of somehow convincing the bhaiya our plight, he kind of agrees (with some money).

And now we have only one manzil! Catch the train! So we rush across the station dragging our bags, pushing and pulling and running and panting. As we finally make it to the platform, to our pleasant surprise the train is calmly standing there. Oh My God.... its 7:10 am and it's still there! Shatabdis are almost never late! We feel blessed for our luck and quickly board our coach, find our seats and settle down. Oh my, what a huge sigh of relief. First, we exchange smiles and then retrospect on what happened. My friend advises me on how I become mad and panicky in difficult situations and how I should keep my cool. I sincerely agree and nod along now that there isn't much to lose. There is so much to change within ourselves I think. And then we chitchat a little wondering when the train will start. Its 7:25am, for the first time Shatabdi is so late....

After a few minutes, we see a couple board our coach and head straight towards us. Then glancing at their tickets and then at our seat numbers, the guy says"You have taken our seats". Yeah right! We take out our tickets and show them, "See, 25 A and B". The guy has a confused look, takes our ticket in his hand and scans the ticket left and right! And then suddenly his face beams in victory, "Bhaisahab, aapka ticket to Dehradun ki Shatabdi ka hai, yeh to Amritsar ki Shatabdi hai" (you have the ticket for Dehradun and this Shatabdi goes to Amritsar). And then we overhear from the back "Dehradun ki Shatabdi to theek 7:00 baje nikal gayi, yeh 7:40 wali Amristar ki Shatabdi hai". (The Dehradun Shatabdi has left at 7:00 already from this platform, this is the Amristar Shatabdi with departure at 7:40 am)

Us-^%^&;*(&*!!! 

(ps: We did make it to our friend's wedding ... we rode by bus)

Perspectives

Those days my roommate J and I had regular routines of washing clothes in the laundry, mostly on weekends. During weekends however, the usage was at its peak and we often had a hard time looking for empty washers/dryers. That day we kept our clothes in the washers and went out for shopping and completely forgot all about it. Later in the evening when our bulbs lit, we rushed to the laundry only to find our clothes in none of the washers! Our first reaction was shock but we soon realized that the probability of someone stealing wet washed clothes from a laundry seemed bleak (plus this wasn't India). So, we went ahead and checked the dryers and lo! Our clothes were all dried up. Someone had moved our clothes from the washers to the dryers! We dint like the idea of that at all. What freaky crappy folks! Impatient people! We swore and came back scowling and growling!

A few weeks later...

We had to travel to Smoky mountains the next day and had a huge pile of clothes to wash. Luckily it wasn't still twilight and we had enough time. Off we went carrying our hampers and quarters and detergent and softener. And lo! All washers were in use! But wait ... the last one looked done. There were clothes inside but they were washed. So, someone had forgotten to do the second round into the dryers. What followed was a moment of silence followed by some "dharam sankat". And then with silent agreement, without exchanging a word or a glance, we quickly moved those clothes from the washer to the dryer. Then went ahead with our chores in a matter of factly way.

We never talked about it.

Tiger not found

And in the jungle, the mighty jungle, you want to see the tiger.

I remember my trip to Corbett National Park a couple of years ago. All I wanted to do there was catch a glimpse of the tiger – the royal, majestic king of the jungle, the gentleman with stripes, the lead protagonist of many stories and the beauty of our emblem. I even carried the book "The tiger is a gentleman" and educated all my friends around how they were such wonderful creatures. Every moment spent, every second passed without the tiger was like a withered wasted moment. We did elephant safari at daybreak, foot safari in the afternoon and jeep safari in the evening. But no tiger rose to the occasion. Towards the end of the trip, I even settled for the glimpse of a wild elephant. I wanted to see at least something that was "wild". What would I tell others about my Corbett trip? What did I see in Corbett National Park?

So did I get to see an elephant (I mean other than the one on the elephant safari)? Well long story short, elephant grass I did see; also with due respect, some wild hens, roosters and a few deer. In due course of time, our perspectives totally changed from worshiping the tiger as the one and only to utter reverence for the ordinary. In the process of seeking retribution for the utter rudeness on part of the tiger our eyes opened up to everything. Now the beauty of small run of the mill things started coming to our notice. We began to love all- from the unkempt elephant grass, the familiar grasshoppers, the narrow streams of water, the pine trees, the friendly sparrows, the black-eyed grunting toads to the unsophisticated crickets, the not so picture perfect swans and the un-feathered peacocks. And the safari elephant with its cute trunk and mushy sweet gentle non-complaining self became my personal favorite. It was interesting to watch its calm gigantic self bowing respectfully to the mahaavat, jumping around with dried tree branches, playing the scare-you-away game with flies and cats and catching a doze of peaceful sleep in between its elephant safari duties.

Once back home, we made up some stories.

Fall in October

Just went out for a small walk. Fall has begun. It is so breathtakingly beautiful outside. It's also very chilly. The tree leaves are turning red, orange and golden. You can see them gently detach from the branches, sway a little, dance a happy dance and finally settle down to the ground. I am reminded of the fall at Smoky Mountains last year (when I went with Jenny and Leena). That was so amazing. I just wonder how it would be now at Smokies. Really feel like going again.

Teaday

The sunlight is bright and warm outside. It's rays twine through the branches of the maple tree in front of the house and then slowly peep through my window. I am reminded of the childhood fairy tales of walking through the woods, with sunlight peeping through the trees with a little stream running close by. I feel too tempted to pull out a charpai (the Hindi of "Cot") and sleep in the sun, which is not possible both due to lack of "charpai" as well as "sleepiness" (slept like a log last night.. in fact, I think I am becoming a log).

'just had my tea and am on a high! Tea does that to me- it brings that happy-to-do-anything smile to my face, ecstasy to my life. Tea is enchanting, fulfilling and nirvanic, tea is healing and heavenly; simply, tea is the zing thing! . For those who haven't been introduced to the "tradition of tea", you are missing something!

Stains on the beautiful day

It happened all of a sudden when I was walking from our dining table to the kitchen after a sumptuous lunch... that one moment of carelessness.... until then it was a picture perfect day .... rising early morning , watching sunrise (read "was awake during sunrise") ... some lazy netsurfing, nice refreshing morning tea, a short and sweet morning walk... beautiful old music in the background ... praying to God and lighting incense sticks ... feeling good about Dussehra.... some cooking, some cleaning, some washing .... nice brunch of home-made fresh and yummy "Poories and Chhole"!! and then everything changed :-(...

I dint know when that bottle of tamarind chutney fell off my hands and splashed everything over - onto the carpet, the wall and the ceiling! (Can you believe the ceiling part? I still can't...)

Vijaydashmi

It’s good morning for me at 2:15am. Had a hard day yesterday, gave the worst exam of my life and slept like a log in the evening. Thank God yesterday is over.
Today it is VijayDashmi (Dussehra) in India. It is a festival that celebrates the victory of Lord Rama (the good) over Ravana (the evil). The festivities last for ten days and Ramlila - an enactment of the life of Rama is played in every nook and corner of towns and cities. Its really beautiful and vibrant there at this time. I think I am missing not being in India.

From the world leader in Procrastination

I had a homework due for tomorrow and had planned it for today evening. After a long nap (there arent just naps, there are short ones and long ones) in the evening today I was cribbing, "Oh I have to start this homework". And since my process of starting a homework (or any study-work) always begins with checking mails, reading blogs, making masala chai (sometimes this includes watching couple of Friends episodes, and believe me they often go beyond just two) to set me in the mood, thats what I did. Happily though my mail had a nice surprise - a message from our prof that the homework has been postponed indefinitely. Since, then I have been rejoicing on that act of God. I thought, God sees the truth but waits and I dont mind being patient; still its heavenly, when He does it instantly.

I remember those times, in school days when light would go off while studying in the night, and I would then give all excuses to my mom about how candle light was straining my eyes or how buying that emergency light was not a good idea. Till that time inverters werent very popular. Later on, when they flooded the market and then homes, I hated them to the core! But I made sure I never bought a UPS for my computer! It was easy to convince my computerati-oblivious sweet innocent parents that it was just not required. I also remember being so excited about announcements of sudden holidays in school or when some tests got cancelled or postponed. 'Cancel' is a healing word!

And many things like that!

At the Charlotte Airport

A lady wearing blue jeans and a pale yellow jacket walks across the Food court area. She is carrying a black background, white polka-dotted handbag on her side. She heads straight for McDonalds and stands in line to place her order. So, that is her favorite amongst all of Pizza Hut, Subway, Quiznos etc. Her standard fall back option. Mine would be Quiznos. (Any guesses why? Because I can expect a decent vegetarian meal from it). Another woman joins the line soon. This time its a a blue shirt over embroidered jeans. Good taste I think. After spending a few hours of shopping in New York over the weekend, my fashion buds are certainly excited. I can see myself taking special interest in watching what people wear, specifically women. I remember we used to do this often as a pastime during our college days, it was a lot of fun. Another woman just crosses my table. She is carrying a multi-colored Jaipuri printed bag. With blue and brown as the foundation colors on the bag, I notice that she wears a coffee colored skirt and a light cream top alongwith it. Everything matches so well. Would she wear any other dress while carrying that bag? Or is she one of those who have a matching bag and a sandal for every dress they own. I see that she also wears a white pearl necklace. Definitely fashion conscious, this woman, I think.

Amidst all this, I hear the siren of a moving cart. There are two old ladies and one young woman sitting on it along with a lady driver. They have a smile on their faces. A smile as if they are I class travellers in a train. Other class people have to walk on their own feet carrying their luggage. They would also give them way as the cart moves across. All the driver needs to do is blow the siren constantly. In another cart, there is another old family with a small child and a bunny (a person impersonating a bunny). The bunny smiles to everyone nodding and shaking his head. Some people smile when they look at him. Everyone knows its not a real bunny. But some smile. I would too if I was in its line of sight. I am not. A question arises in my mind. Why doesnt everyone smile when they see a bunny?

A guy comes and parks a cart close to other carts and takes out his 25 cent reward from the machine. I think some thing at the moment. I then start reminiscing about how Tom Hanks earns his money in the movie Terminal (its a must watch). I calculate, 25 cents * 10 (carts) = 2.5 dollars. So, you can at least get one burger a day if you can get hold of ten empty carts and park them here. Then I go a step ahead and calculate 25 cents * 20 (carts) = 5 dollars. So if he can manage 20 carts then he should be able to get food twice a day. How difficult would it be to manage getting 20 carts in a day, my mind prods. Somehow, I want to be settled that it is not difficult to do that. I want to be settled that someone doing this can easily manage to have food at least twice a day. If he remains hungry, it would be sad.

By now, I feel a slight pain in my wrist. I realize I am not using any hard board or support for the paper. I am scribbling uncomfortably on my lap and my hand posture is not good. Deciding to take a break, while I take a short glance around exercising my wrist, I see people looking at me suspiciously. They seem puzzled about what this woman is upto - looking around and scribbling something constantly. My neighbour even sneaks a peek into my writing but I am sure at the speed with which I scribble, my handwriting is so illegible, that she would only worsen the suspense for herself. For a moment, I feel like a criminal. I try to look normal and make a casual conversation with someone. I am not insane or prodding into your lives is the message I want to get across. Finally, I choose to stop writing.

Prologue: Yield? What yield?

The word Yield never found much place in my vocabulary until recently. And since then it has been written all over in my head. Any guesses to what this is all about? Well, we recently bought a car. The lazy woman that I am, I never bothered to get my US driving license until now. And mind you, if you laugh or smirk I will defend myself to the core. Why do I need a license if I do not have anything to drive around? Yeah I know it's all about being prepared and all that. My roommate Jenny used to tell me it is good to have it as an identity proof when you are travelling around. Well, I have my passport, I would reply. Why would you move around with your passport? Would you not like to keep it at some safe place? she would insist. I would retort back with a why would anyone steal my passport? And since it is my passport I am going to be extra careful carrying it around. Of course, she would give it up knowing it was no use cracking a nut which was already crack.

Back to topic, I have had an Indian driving license for almost 10 years now and have driven around quite a lot while in Delhi. And just to keep the perspective, I love driving. So driving or being comfortable with the vehicle was not a matter at all. What was the matter, was driving in US after driving in India. It's a complete shift in perspective. The first couple of times I drove, I committed blasphemous mistakes. I still remember I drove right across the intersection into the wrong side of the road (on the other side of yellow line) and expressed innocent confusion on why vehicles from the opposite side were coming right onto us. Thankfully, my friend's shocked expression quickly communicated the mistake and its seriousness and I understood just in time. Incidentally, I wasn't caught. Similarly, I took a couple of free left turns.

The concept of Yield is something I was completely new to after driving in Delhi for two reasons. One, there is no traffic rule that mandates that you have to yield. The signals take complete care of it (that is if you are following the signals which is a completely different question altogether). Two, if you try to yield in Delhi traffic, you will never get to your destination. The dynamics are very different there. So the message you learn is "NEVER YIELD". Being aggressive in fact, is essential for survival in Delhi. (If you subscribe to Gandhian school of thought, you could argue here, agreed.) So, it was a complete turnaround here.

My early US traffic experience began as a pedestrian and I was pretty humbled by the Tehzeeb and Izzat shown to the pedestrians (at least in NC, although I have seen the New York city traffic to be pretty similar to Delhi traffic). Here, if you mere pedestrian, happen to be in the middle of the road and a car is speeding towards you at 45 miles per hour, you have no reason to panic. Just hold your head high and keep crossing the road (bindaas hokar cross karne ka, kya?). The car would come to a screeching halt just to let you cross. And the driver would not complain. If you just step out of your house and see a car parked 20 meters away from you in the middle of the road close to your house, you need to hurry a little because the car driver is waiting for you to cross. He does not mind waiting at all. He has all the respect and patience for you. He will cross only after you cross. Initially when this used to happen with me, I often stopped confused as to let the car go. And then the driver would either just keep waiting till I understood or indicate through some gesture and then I would hurry only ending up wasting the time. It took me a while to grasp the equation, status(Pedestrian) > status(Motor vehicle).

And so back to car driving in US. I found it difficult to break my old habit of aggressive (read oppurtunistic) driving to a humble toned down one. And initially I almost never yielded while turning left. It was never deliberate. In fact, it was very natural for me to do that. The first time I did that, I did not get any hang of why, when I had a green signal, traffic was still coming from the opposite direction. Slowly, I programmed my mind with two messages - "YIELD" and "WHEN CONFUSED BE ON THE RIGHT". These two messages helped me uncode my older habits of not yielding and being left-aligned on roads. Sadly the YIELD message has been over-learnt. Now, when I am on a signal planning to go straight across the intersection (having the Right of way), I stop to YIELD for turning traffic. I keep waiting after my signal has turned green and then after a patient wait, either on hearing a honk from the back or seeing the vehicle in front of me NOT turning for long enough, realize my mistake and move straight on. Guess it would be a little time before I can unlearn the over-learnt. I also chuckle at the thought of how I would find driving back in India after driving for a while in US. So much for traffic and all that.

Update

Just yesterday. I am driving back from Downtown to my univ area. Like generally is the case, the streets in Downtown are one way. So once I am on the street that goes straight into my univ, I set the cruise button of my mind to KEEP MOVING STRAIGHT, and let it indulge in the more important trivia of life. After about a mile of driving, suddenly an oncoming car emerges out of nowhere. It is only then that my almost absent mind sends flashing brain signals WRONG SIDE WRONG SIDE!!! (ONE WAY became a TWO WAY once out of downtown). I immediately shift to the right and completely ignore the expression on the driver's face.