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Press confirm to complete the transaction. Somehow it read press confirm and we will screw you. I can sense these things. But sensing is one thing and knowing is other. If we knew everything we sensed, things would make much more sense. Anyways.

I confirmed. And i wait.

5 seconds gone.

I haven’t realised yet that I’ve taken the ride. My brain works with a lag of 5 seconds. If there was a way to delete those 5 seconds in every conversation i have had, i would be the most quick witted person ever. But that is not how those 5 seconds work. So I stare at my screen like a dim-witted retard.

Nothing happens.

Now it clicks. Brain starts to connect logically the events that have taken place in last 5 seconds.

I pressed confirm. Transaction was made. Money was debited. The TICKETS should have been booked. Simple silly.

Another 5 sec lag.

Tickets should have been booked. But that doesn’t look like the ticket page.

Then what is it?

It says TRANSACTION FAILED, TRY AGAIN.

Brain is clueless. But knows it’s duty. It has to come with the answer. What next is the question.

Neurons are running helter-skelter. Right brain left brain. Every freaking corner.

This is called panic. Not a very profound situation to panic but 4745 is decent sum of hard earned money, which looks like, have been gobbled up by the nexus of Makemytrip and HDFC bank.

Brain as useless as it might be is a clever organ. It knows how to save it’s arse without delivering. RELAX it says. Calm down. Things are totally under control. Whose control??? I ask nervously. That is not important, Brain replies. This gives those neurons time to make up some response. Go to the website and look for the customer care option. I do like an obedient child. Dial the number and you will get your money back. Everything is under control. I take a sigh of relief. If not for my brilliant brain i would have been a dead man.

I dial. Computer lady replies, “Welcome to Makemytrip. We make memories unlimited”. Do not trust any lady who says this. Even if she’s a computer. I wait impatiently. She continues,” dial 1 for ...dial 3..dial 123 for.....”. I look clueless-ly at my brain. I get an out-of-office reply. I’ll have to do it myself. I dial 3. Computer lady, “dial -56 for...dial -55 for....dial 103 for..”. In a desperate attempt to save myself from the embarrassment of my inability to decipher large chunk of numbers, I disconnect. I need time to regroup. I must be more prepared. I look at my brain again. It winks and shows a thumbs up. I dial again. Computer lady, “dial 1 for...dial 2 for....”. I follow intently. I dial every freaking number she tells me to with the hope that finally she will say dial 1 to talk to our customer care executive. After 5 mins and dialling all the even, odd, prime, rational, irrational numbers, I look at my phone screen. It reads f#78% u b$%322$%!.

I give up. Welcome to Makemytrip and we will take you for a ride. After all we make memories unlimited.

Funeral Rite

i turn back n i see no shadow,

no foot prints on the sand,

no drop of blood,

not red not black,

cul-de-sac.

i gaze..

further...

there's no trace,

there are no memories,

images are black,

no words no verse,

not even a curse.

i look for the witness,

there's none,

but one

my own reflection.

screaming of non existence

of existence,

of waiting for Godot,

of turning into wife of Lot,

stinking rot.

i run

from the reflection

into the sun

of oblivion,

i shall burn

into ashes

and there will be no phoenix rise,

'coz ashes have drowned

into the river of life,

of absolute might,

And that my friend is the funeral rite.

Anna and the underwear of Hope

I was not to be stopped. You can be cynical and sit back and do nothing or you can do your bit, not much just a bit but your bit, I roared with rare conviction. That’s the beauty of this nation, the enormity of its size, your bit multiplied by a billion and you have a tsunami to wash away all evil, call it population dividend or whatever. Mix Mathematics, Economics, Philosophy with a little rhetoric and you have an argument which cannot be defeated. Add a pinch of self righteous morality and you have created a monster argument which will plunder innocuous rational thought. But it wasn’t about winning the argument, it never is with me. I really believed in everything he was doing and everything he was saying. Anna Hazare it felt was doing it for me. Corruption was manifestation of everything I abhorred and detested. Unfairness, Greed, Shallow Ambitions, Selfishness. And no matter what the cynics said, I was going to make my contribution. I was going to sacrifice my otherwise very meticulously planned Saturday and offer my fast. Glory was just a night away. Not the glorious glory but the tiny personal glory. Kind of glory you can bask in for a week. The kind you can use all your life to teach your kids important lessons of almost anything in life- integrity, honesty, brushing, washing, morals, higher morals and even maths. The kind which will distinguish you from the corrupt father of the ugly neighbourhood kid. The kind which lets you say things like....

I almost went to jail in the fight against corruption and you are 2 and can’t even talk! I fought against the government and you can’t even by heart the table of 27! Me and Anna we did Satyagrah for you and you want to graduate in commerce, you son of a b#$%^!

Flying on high moral jet, I logged onto my Facebook account to see how my comrades were spreading the fire in the virtual world. We did it in Egypt, we will do it in India!!

Holy Shit!!, Cry of anguish. What happened?, Asked my friend who am sure was bleeding in self pity from my just concluded assault of interdisciplinary moralistic missile. Lemme refresh, I wanted to double check. This was the moment of disbelief. Of broken promises. Of shattered dreams. The kind musicians earn their bread and drugs from. All heavens came falling down. Government has agreed to all the demands. Movement has been withdrawn, I said poignantly. That’s great news, ohh but you were going to dharna tomorrow? Said my friend incredulously or so he pretended. These are the moments when all you are wearing is underwear of hope and somebody pulls it off. It’s there and then it’s gone and you are naked. And you have a friend to tell you, dude i think you are naked. Don’t give me the damn mirror you bas#$% give me hope!!

There wasn’t going to be a dharna, no fast for me. Mortality it felt was in love with me. Government I declared in anguish was not just corrupt but also spineless. How can they let a septuagenarian hold the country to ransom? They could have waited for a day at least, he wasn’t going to die!!What will I say now? The battle got over and I was shining my armour? Reason and hope are twin sisters. They both leave you together. Distraught I crashed onto my pillow. With stoned eyes I kept gazing the ceiling. Well it wasn’t about the corruption or revolution or Anna. It’s that thing they call happiness.

One more night to kill. One more day to live. Who am I? Body without a soul or soul without a body?

Ban it, Damn it

I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it. This famous quote by Voltaire echoed in my head time again last week. Echo was caused by two troubling pieces of news, both flirting dangerously with the Voltaire’s idea of freedom of action and of speech. The first news came from closer home UP. Girls have been banned from wearing jeans and carrying cell phones within the compounds of Colleges in UP. Second came ironically from the France, land where Voltaire made his famous quote. French Prez Sarkozy announced his support for ban on Burqas. Irony continues as Sarkozy’s ban is to upheld Individual freedom.

Ban on wearing Jeans is easy to denounce as it violates individual’s freedom to choose. Such violations should not have any place in progressive society like ours. Progressive we are, so what if we celebrate Balika Vadhu, it’s just a silly tele programme.

But not so the ban on Burqas. It has sparked controversy all over the world with US President Barack Obama condemning the ban saying we don’t tell our ladies what to wear and what not to. After all freedom of speech has been the foundation laid down by founding fathers over which this land of opportunity has prospered. So what if we have killed thousands of innocent people in Afghanistan and Iraq. Founding fathers never said anything about not killing innocent people. In India response has been of usual rhetoric about minority rights. And by doing so we continue to hold our number one position in political correctness. Cheers!!

Funny part is that the ban on Jeans is to protect the chastity of the young and vulnerable girls. Apparently jeans, cell phone and chastity don’t go along (Man somebody should have told me this). Chastity was the reason why Burqas came in first place. Quran never mentions the Burqa or any other form of veil. It only asks women and men to maintain their chastity. So actually Burqas came only because men when they see flesh, pounce on it like hungry dogs.

But the larger question is about liberty, individual’s freedom to make a choice. Underlying argument is that many women wear burqas by choice and not by force. So a ban is denying them of choice not only of clothes but also of religious freedom. Would you then force the nuns to wear jeans? Of course not.

So is it about the religious intolerance? Intolerance of mainstream French society towards Islam? and also the intolerance of Muslims towards the rest of the world?

Or is it the vagaries of growing multiculturalism? Certainly, calling women wearing burqa, a cross between prison cell and a tent; and Sarkozy’s apparent discomfort while talking to women in burqa points to failure to conform to foreign culture.

To put things in perspective, I would say argument of freedom of choice is flawed. There may be women who wear burqa by choice but one they are outnumbered by millions who are forced to make that choice. Second, those who claim to have made the choice should ask themselves, did they really have a choice. Also there is question of freewill. Most of the time what we think is freewill, is in fact not. When you are born in a family/society infected by religious dogmas, you are slowly programmed/poisoned into believing these dogmas. And what you think is freewill is merely a mirage and you become not an individual but a mere carrier of attributes that created the mirage in the first place.

Second question is about religious intolerance. I will shed my political correctness to say that Islam in its current form is a bit of anachronism**. Any religion as sacred as it may be, has to reform itself with time. Christianity did it, it was a bloody process with lot of resistance from Church and from the people themselves but it did it for the good. Hinduism may not have reformed itself in the same scale but it still pruned itself from evils like sati system, child marriage, polygamy and even to certain extent parda system. Ignorant as I may be but I don’t see any reforms in Islam. Polygamy exists so does Burqa; You can get divorce by uttering three dreaded words (in fact just one dreaded word uttered three times). And the worst (and rather dangerous) part is that instead of reforms there seems to be a movement backwards towards radicalisation. Sufism is dead and Talibanism is thriving. This anachronism of Islam has led to confrontation or as George W Bush would say- Clash of civilisations. It’s like somebody driving a bullock cart in a freeway full of high speed cars. There will be a lot of honking.

Third question is about multiculturalism. French have fought hard to create a secular society. It took a French revolution to separate church from state. Secular nature of their state is reflected in the ban(yes the dreaded word again) on religious symbols like Jewish cap, Sikh turban in schools. So onus I believe is with the immigrants to maintain that fabric of society. Not suggesting that society can be insensitive towards immigrants but onus has to be with immigrants.

Last is my personal view on religion. Religion is your personal faith and it has to remain personal. There should not be any place for religious symbols. Religion creates civilisations, Religious symbols destroy them. So if it requires a ban to kill these symbols, so be it.

Note** I am no authority on religion especially Islam. I’ve not read Quran. My views are based on my observation of the world around me and a little bit of common sense.

The Burning Train

I find travelling a tedious task. Although I do agree with the romance of travelling, the possibilities of meeting new people, experiencing new cultures, the scenery, the moving trees giving you the sense of time flowing through you like a breeze. But that flow invariably turns into a vortex of boredom draining with it whatever false sense of romance you may have fooled yourself with before the start of journey. Travelling alone is even worse, as it gives you the time to introspect. You have all the time to ask all those difficult questions which you were running away from. Why don’t I’ve a career at 27? Why am I still single? To more philosophical ones like what is the purpose of my existence? And still the more philosophical ones like why can’t I ever get up at 6?
But for all that gloom you can be rest assured that you are gonna meet few jokers you can paint some pages of your blog on. I met mine very early while travelling to Delhi. If you are reading this blog chances are that you have travelled by Indian railways sometime in your life. One word that describes Indian railways is chaos (probably it’s the same word that describes our nation). There is chaos everywhere .There is chaos at reservation centre, there’s chaos at railway platform, there’s chaos at taxi stand. And when you successfully overcome all of these and manage to reach your seat there is chaos waiting for you there. It’s in the form of somebody who claims that to be his seat.
That’s what happened to an aged couple in my compartment. There was a Muslim couple already sitting in what they claimed was their reservation. After series of arguments from both the sides and words of wisdom from other passengers somebody decided to call the ticket checker. Finally the ticket checker arrived and told the Muslim couple that their reservation was in S6 and not in S8 (where the drama was taking place). Poor Muslim guy had loads of luggage as he was apparently returning from Haz. He called on his friends in the other compartment and they helped him in shifting his luggage to S6. Unfortunately they forgot one bag as they left. And that bag created hysteria. Actually it was not the bag that created the hysteria but our Joker did. Yes our Joker who made this blog possible. Our joker (some Jat from Delhi) felt that there could be a bomb in the bag. Vigilante you would say considering the situation we are in especially post Mumbai. But what was sad and disgusting was the reason he gave. He smirked,”Yeh mian logon ka bharosa nahi kar sakte aajkal”. As people around us nodded in agreement I just had one thought what if I was a Muslim. I don’t know what sense of national pride I would have felt if I was a Muslim hearing that. You decide.
After all this conversation somebody went in to search the Muslim family. He caught hold of one of their friends who had moved the luggage and told him about the bag. He came in and took the bag. While going back he left his card and said aloud Just in case you need it. What we need is little common sense. May be, may be not. I don’t know.

Independence Day!

Its 15th August today. Our Independence day. Everybody is celebrating, even the weather Gods. Its sunny afternoon after a rain soaked month in Mumbai.TV is celebrating in its own inimitable style. There is Rang de Basanti,Swadesh,Border and K3G(If you are wondering why K3G ,probably because it got Jan Gan Man and hence qualifies for 15 August).I wonder whats on DD because no body can beat DD in this game.I remember watching Gandhi three times every year.First on Republic day then Independence day and finally on Gandhi Jayanti.Although I always preferred 26 January because of the Parade but hearing Leader of the nation speak from Red Fort always made me proud (although there were some ridiculous moments as well like Devegauda trying to speak in Hindi).But still most memories are from school.Preparations would begin 20 days prior.And for 20 days there would be buzz in the air with people practising for group songs,speeches,PT and the most infamous of all The Parade.I was useless for my music teacher so she never bothered me with the group song.But I would always get caught by whoever was my class teacher for the Independence day speech.For some reason every teacher felt I would make a good speaker.But I always managed to disappoint them.Infact I once was so terrified at the thought of getting selected that I deliberated a poor speech at trials. I probably overestimated my abilities because in the past even my 100% had not been enough to take me past trials.But worst was definitely parade.I remember getting thrown out in the middle of practice once.And that instantly made me a celebrity with my mates,because nothing was more cool than sitting on the fences and watching the mortals slug it out in the heat.
All this would culminate on 15 august .Mornings on 15 august were distinctly different with speaker phones blaring patriotism .tricolor flying everywhere,streets filled with students neatly dressed in whites carrying out prabhat ferries .their hearts filled with hope,expectation, exuberance.....alas only the hearts of children.
Not surprisingly I don’t have any profound memories of independence day during college and after.Probably we are old enough to realise the futility of entire exercise or may be its the cynicism that comes with the age .I remember getting up in the independence day morning and seeing my roomie neatly dressed up.
”Whats with you dude” I asked.Vinay(my roomie),”Its independence day ,I felt like doing something for the nation”.
Me: So??.
Vinay(after a pause),”I decided to bathe”.
Well celebrations are over .It has started raining again in Mumbai.I should atleast take bath and do my bit for the nation. Jai Hind.