Dirty Details

When I came back from Australia, silverine asked me to give the dirty details. Many posts hence, since I've got nothing better to talk about, I'll give you one especially dirty detail.
I would not have told it to you then... but I guess it's ok now. I won't go back there again... I'm sure the past will not catch up on me again!

That morning our rounds were scheduled in the early morning session. That meant we had to catch the CityRail at 7:10am. As luck would have it, we woke up at only around 6:40am. It was a time for sacrifices and I wholeheartedly sacrificed the cold-shower to my team-mates. My sacrifice just about did the trick and we ran into the 7:10 CityRail just as the doors were closing. Whew!

After a very good morning session, we started feeling hungry (breakfast was another sacrifice we made). We went to a nice place called Australia Square where we had the Sydney kind of breakfast. Halfway through the hamburger, my stomach reminded me that there was one another thing I sacrificed early morning... My mandatory biological waste disposal! The pressure was enormous (heavy supper the night before) and I had to do something!

Not to worry! After all this was Australia, where cleanliness is a way of life! That meant the public toilets were also bound to be clean (contrasted from Pay and Use ones in Rlwy Stations in India)! So I made my way to the sign for gents toilet (swear, didn't glance at the open ladies' door), smiling at everyone (they all seemed so accomplished) on the way.
I opened the door and lo and behold, the king among toilets I'd ever seen! Spirits rising, I opened a cubicle and sat down to bliss!
(I'll leave you guys to imagine what bliss could've been!)

Now comes the dirtiest part of the story! I finish my task and look around for water to clean myself. Horror of Horrors! Terror of Terrors! There isn't any water anywhere, except under me! The horrible truth dawned upon me! This was Australia, where people didn't like water the way we did in Kerala! They'd rather not get wet, what with the cold climate and all! Precisely for this purpose them westerners (aquaphobics) had invented the Tissue Paper!

My eyes searching desperately, fell upon a roll of this thing, Tissue Paper! No... Oh no! There has to be another way! Maybe I could just rush out and get myself some water from the basin outside! Not that... Don't wanna get caught with my pants down in Australia! Another way... another way... Give up!

I reluctantly submitted myself to the imperialists' designs and wiped myself with the tissue paper. I tidy myself and come out of the cubicle. All ok, except for the dirty, slimy, sticky, sleazy feeling in between my legs! It gives chills up my legs! It affects the way I walk! I'm all self-conscious and unsmiling as I open the door... I walk the corridor out, the guy who's got a world of trouble between his legs... an odd one out in a place where others come with troubled stomachs and leave with a sense of blissful accomplishment!

I reach the end of the corridor (jumping to avoid the open door at the ladies'), and as the noise of the crowd hit me, there in the middle of all those foreigners in Down Under, I realized i had another reason to be proud of my country... We've got water in our toilets!

And hey, my stomach wasn't troubling me anymore! That's what mattered after all! I'd achieved what my teammates could never dream of achieving! That's Padayatty! I gain the accomplished look that missed me on the corridor! I smile!



P.S. I did the same thing two more times in different places in Sydney and one time on the aeroplane! I believe I can venture to call myself an expert 'tissue culturist'!

'The Rising' Early Morning For 'Mangal Pandey'

Well, believe it or not, but when all my friends back home in Kerala have just made it to the queue outside whatever theatre Amir Khan's much awaited movie Mangal Pandey - The Rising is being released, Padayatty is back online to blog his review of the movie! For once Raipur was of some use to me. It so happens that, the first show on the release date of any movie is at 5:00am in the morning. What do you say to that, eh?

An Amir Khan movie coming after such a long gap, especially when his last two movies (DCH, Lagaan) had endeared us so much to him, is bound to create the kind of madness that would cause blind fans like me to get to the cinema hall at any unearthly hour, even if the chances of getting any tickets were virtually non-existent. Despite these odds, me and a few other crazy guys (Achu, Sherin, Shrijith & Tapan) decided the gamble was worth a try, and stayed awake the whole night, and found ourselves an auto (with help from Sandeep Agarwal, my dear friend and junior), only to find at the cinema hall(3:50am) a battalion of fans crazier than us, who had camped overnight and were already in queue for the tickets! Tough luck. We'd have turned back not wishing to get trampled to death so far away from home, if it had not been for Sandeep who found someone on the queue who was willing to go to any limits to make sure that we got some tickets, if, we would give him a commission for his troubles. This was a better option than the stampede!(4:15am)

Time moved slowly as all of us waited, keeping an eye on our benefactor so that he wouldn't turn traitor. Meanwhile, people were doing all sorts of things to get to the front of the queue. They were all scared away by a guy with a lathi who kept waving it viciously, ocassionaly poking the odd guy who tried climbing to the roof of the ticket counter, or the guys sitting on top of the grilled corridor on the last lap to the ticket counter( they looked like monkeys). In between, one guy with his hair styled like Amitabh Bachchan(man did he look funny?) kept waving at the crowd below, from the roof of the theatre where he had somehow got to!

In between all these funny going ons and close shaves from being beaten with the lathi, we lost our benefactor in the crowd. But, there he was returning from the counter, beaming all over after having accomplished his mission. We grabbed the tickets and get on the queue for entering the hall.(5:00am) Here too a stampede is on. We wonder what the hurry is for as the show has not started yet. It is only after we make our way into the theatre that we find the reason.

The talkies people have sold more tickets than the total seats available. We see a crowd of people spilled all over the theatre, some standing on the chairs, some standing diretly in front of the projector hole projecting obscene gestures onto the screen. Well, what the heck... we got this far from nowhere, what's to standing andwatching the movie.

And so it was that my good friends and I, stood through the whole 3 hour long movie, dedicating our pains maybe to the spirit of fanhood!

***

Mangal Pandey - The Rising is the story of a man who probably was India's first ever martyr and freedom-fighter. A man about whom we have heard mentions in History classes as the man who started off the First War Of Indian Independence, but unfortunately about whom we do not know any further. A man who awakened to the possibility of being free during a period of ignorance that had blanketed the country. A man deserving to be equal in stature of any of the much filmed freedom fighters, but who till 'The Rising' has not. An unknown hero in a nation that loves its heroes. Ketan Mehta with his Mangal Pandey - The Rising pays tribute to this man and martyr, in an attempt to belatedly give this great his due.

The movie tells the story of the friendship between Capt. Gordon, an officer in the British East India Company and Mangal Pandey an ordinary Indian Sepoy who saved Gordon's life while at war in Afghanistan. They wrestle each other to tide over their differences, they get drunk together to play pranks on the bad Briton(i think he's the Smith guy from Lagaan), save damsels in distress from the sati pyre's, during the course of their at odds friendship, which as Mangal says is because of their skin-colour.

Mangal takes his trusted friend's word and bites off the rumoured-to-be-greased-catridges, forcing his fellow sepoys also to use the catridges. But later they find out that the rumour was not a rumour. This coupled with earlier incidents like the time when he had to shoot at agitated Indian villagers, causes Mangal to see the true colour of the Company.

When the Company fails to give due regard to the sentiments of the sepoys, they decide not to use the greased catridges anymore. An angry Company general threatens to shoot them. Mangal marches forward and stands in front of a cannon. This does the trick and the dissent starts spreading. Soon dissent spreads to other batallions. The soldiers take over the Company arsenal. The proud generals still do not gauge the seriousness of the situation. They try attacking the rebel sepoys, but end up having to turn back.

The sepoys from this point on see that they have it in them to be free. Mangal speaks of a government of the people to the visiting kings, who want their help in a all India struggle against the Company. They plan to launch all their attacks together and end it with a capture of the Red Fort.

The Company is also not keeping low. They divert a regiment from Rangoon towards India, which arrives earlier than anticipated by the Sepoys. The Sepoys all run away frightened, leaving a determined Mangal Pandey to take his stand against the Company's vast army. After firing a few shots Mangal shoots himself, in the hope that his blood would at least spark a revolt. Though Mangal survived, he was sentenced to death despite passionate arguments by Cap. Gordon on his behalf.

Mangal Pandey is hanged to death in front of a crowd of villagers. At Mangal's death the people awake to their power and the rest is what we Indians call the First War Of Indian Independence.

The music by A. R. Rahman is nowhere near the magic he's known for. The Mangal Mangal song raised spirits in the theatre. Me Vairi Vairi was also ok. The background music was at places western style and not quite fit for the scenes.

All the actors did their job well. But Amisha Patel still has to learn to cry.

The direction is not anything superb. So's the script. The movie has nothing artistic about it either. With respect to playing to the masses, instead of concentrating on patriotic moments and spirit dialogues, lots of time is wasted on the bollywoodkind of sex. Totally unnecessary. Some of the songs felt like planted without purpose. The climax, where the emotions should have been upped, was video footage of Mahatma Gandhi leading the masses and Nehru lifting the National Flag. That's not the way Lagaan ended... That's why it felt so good after coming from the cinema hall after that one!

Despite this, I liked the scenes where he faces the Britons alone, where he stands in front of the canon fearlessly and the one where he twirls his moustache at the Court Martial.

Verdict: Not up to the hype! Watchable, but nothing great to report.
Padayatty Rating: 2/5

Books and Padayatty!

I am a bookaholic! My parents imbibed in me a good reading habit, which has not left me till today. Started with Grimm Brothers and folk tales, then abridged versions of the classics; Tintin, Asterix, Tinkle, Amar Chitra Katha in between; Enid Blyton... then the 18-till-they-die Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys (that was a race for who among frinds would complete the whole list first)... mention Three Investigators and Sherlock Holmes; then onto the Best-seller Paperbacks (John Grisham, Sidney Sheldon and the list goes on...); I was into the wonderful world of books, reading at least 2 books a week till I reached the 10th class.

Then on, other masculine and teenage distractions affected my reading habit. Though I have not given up on it, the number of books I read, has been minimum in the last four or five years. But I read most of the books that I consider my favourites, during these years.

Vacations was the time for reading. After roaming all around the city with friends the whole day, I would read late into the night some book I took from the Eloor Lending Library. Now that I have mentioned it, I might as well commend Eloor for being a very good library for fiction lovers, who cannot afford to buy New York Times Best Sellers with their hefty price tags (guess most Indians belong to that list). The Loyola School library was another place where my list of 'books I read' grew long. Another factor contributing to my interest in books, was certain people around me who were as excited as I was to discuss books; my sister Neena; my best friend Faiz Ali Mohammad, who I concede, defeated me in Hardy Boys, though I suspect he only read the summary given on the cover and the last chapter!

***

Angeline's been bombing me with tags! Been delaying it for no reason at all (read lazy)... so here goes my book tag!

1. Total number of books owned: Well, I come from a middle-class family, which is rich when it comes to bookish wealth. I don't think I can make any sort of guess as to the number of books owned. I personally own very few books (me and my sister got no mine's, only ours!).

2. Last book bought: Don't tell this to anybody because the last book I bought was a xerox copy of the Half-Blood Prince (bourgeoise publishers down! the proles need all the fanatasy they can get!).

3. Last book read: Same as above. Was lucky to find a copy(actually) in bloody Raipur!

4. Books that mean a lot to me:

1. Catcher In The Rye - Describes a state of mind I often find myself in! I face 'em phonies everyday, and I sure have a soft-corner (not the self-righteous take-you-to-heaven-with-me kind) for 'losers' as the conventional world calls them.

2. Catch-22 - Yossarian says they're all shooting at him. Somebody corrects that to they're shooting at everybody. Yossarian asks, in all simplicity, what the difference is! That's what Catch-22 means for me. My favourite anti-hero(conventional sense) deciding to live life for himself, forgetting country and all the liars who churnout Catch-22's so that simpletons like me and Yossarian end up dead for some cause which is not there!

3. To Kill A Mockingbird - My favourite hero, who decides to make a stand for what he thinks is right, when the society at large persecutes him. He becomes a role model for his young children, revealing to them and conditioning them to live by what their heart says is right in a world so wild. If I ever be a father, I'd be modeled on my own Papa and Atticus Finch! Also probably at the back of my decision to join law school.

4. Swami And Friends - I read this one long back. The friendship and the innocence of the boys felt very Indian and close to my own. Swami is just like me. He wastes time just before the examinations drawing up elaborate lists of things he might need while preparing for the exams. He edits and re-edits them and ends up getting very few of the items in his painstakingly made list. A wannabe organised guy, who loses himself in the finer details! I too have done the same things. Preparing schedules for my study leaves, which included minor details like the paragraphs in the books I had to study, tea-breaks, stretch-breaks. By the time I had finished the first schedule, I would be late by at least ten minutes on the grand opening. This meant another list. Poor Mummy has thrown enough schedules into the waste-basket!

6. Franny and Zooey - I'll do it for fat-lady! I recognize Jesus's presence in every individual, howsoever irritating they might be. For that reason, I might even put up with them! Salinger's style of writing definitely influenced me a lot (The bracket syndrome)!

7. Animal Farm - Helps me bear HNLU Farm! Enlightens me on how the majority of the people are, how they forget the past very easily. I loved the cynic, Benjamin the donkey, whose world view is probably best!

8. A Christmas Carol - Tells me not to go the Scrooge way. It's the spirit of Christmas for me!

That's all I can think of now!

Now, as the tag must go on, here's to...

Achu, Adarsh, Anjali, Anish, Anurag, Debanshu, Jiby, Madhvi, Praveen and Vishnu.

And...

Don't expect to borrow any books from me... I chew and digest them!

Padayatty on the Run!

Been two years here in Raipur; but never seen what early morning is like. Today I found out... Thank you, Sudeep and Tapan, for helping me fulfil a two-year old wish!

I've been asking Sudeep 'Military' Vijayan to call me also when he goes on his post-nocturnal runs for keeping fit. I mean he can do it without a thought; what with his Military background and all. Not poor me. All my previous attempts at this sort of thing... failures!

Back in Trivandrum, all of us guys used to get bitten by the fitness bug once in a while. Same evening, we would each get a new pair of canvas shoes (the ones with green heels with absolutely no grip). Before night's sleep, the day before 'The Day', the strategically important task of setting alarms, and asking somebody or anybody to make sure we wake up. This is a particularly unpleasant task, what with all the pessimists back home making wisecracks about my previous unsuccessful attempts at the task at hand. After making these arrangements and finalising over the phone for the umpteenth time the finer details of our mission, sleep in the face of excitement, is minimum.

I'd have set 3 alarm clocks with a gap of 30 mins between their set times. The brilliant logic (another of those masterpieces which consistently arise from my intellect) behind this is that, given the human being's inherent unwillingness to obey alarm clocks, the first two alarms would serve as means to satisfy one's ego, and one would need to wake up at the third alarm only. You see, it's a kind of best of three system. You win the first two rounds against the alarms, and lose the third one as a gesture of sportsmanship. Ultimate gain for you! Brilliant me!

'The Day' arrives the next morning, after having slept through three alarms (I guess my ego's too big to be satisfied with two alarms (mental note to increase number of clocks next time)), when Sajjad, who's the closest to being organised in our group (that's because his Umma is very strict), wakes me up with a call, enquiring angrily as to why I have not yet reached the rendezvous point. I explain with a quick lie and get on my way.

The rendezvous is at the Trivandrum Museum-Zoo Park, which is a really beautiful park right in the middle of Trivandrum city, very near to my home. It used to be my stock joke when anybody asked me where I lived to say that I have lion's instincts, because I wake up every morning to the roar of the lion at the Zoo.

Anyway, by about 6:30 all lazy-bones' would finally get to the park. Then the lot of us would start jogging the circular park, the lazier ones at a leisurely pace, taking time to look at the girls in their designer-wear. Maximum of two rounds and then its sitting at the mandapam in the middle of the park, sharing fitness info like pro's. Then disperse, after having chaaya and ullivada from the nearest thattu.

After the first day's jog, the strength of the jogging fraternity would have diminished to null, because of the body-aches consequent to having made the mistake of moving one's lazy body, after having allowed it the luxury of never using it for days at length. That would be end of the mission for the time being. Again a few months later, the bug would bite again, and we would go through the motions again and... you know what!

One time, me and Varun went for about one week at length, and finally we had to stop because I couldn't bear Varun's valippus (you know, jokes that kill you) early in the morning (come on, I bear it the whole day during school, that's enough). Another time, the whole gang decided to go together and went seriously enough for the first few days. After that, one morning everyone was feeling lazy and we decided not to jog for that day and sat chatting in the mandapam. Same thing the next day, and the next... Three days later, everyone was feeling lazy to even talk. So we decided we could all take a nap in the benches at the park. Just for the day. Same thing the next day. And the next day... my Papa who comes to walk daily, saw all of us blissfully napping away on the benches. That was the end of the story... I never got to buy anymore canvas shoes!

I mean, Papa is right and all you know. The thing is while all other people went to the park early to do honorable things... me and friends went there to sleep. That's just not what anybody should be going to parks for, unless you're an animal at the Zoo or something like that! So there.


So, today morning, Tapan came and woke me up. He clarified on my enquiry that, Kariachan who was also supposed to go with us decided not to come. That was inspiration enough not to go. I offered having no shoes as an excuse and was about to get back to sleep when Sudeep Military came back from his jog, and said hi and offered to lend me his running shoes. That blew the excuse, and suddenly some heavenly inspiration made one thing lead to another and there was Padayatty on the Run!

Hurrah!

Wish me luck guys. I take this to be the begining of a new chapter in the life of the organised Padayatty. I'll need your prayers and wishes to keep on jogging. For tomorrow and a lifetime of Padayatty on the Run!

Statistically Me!

I just became a statistic. You can be one too...

Hum

This vacation was one of the best in years. The trip's lasting images come once more to my mind...
All of us were huddled together, Indian cricket team style and going around in circles when as if by divine inspiration somebody, think it was Anish, started singing Bum Chikku Chikku Bum from the film Hum. And everybody caught on, remembering clearly the lyrics of the old song about being for each other. No well rehearsed choir could match us that night, and we sang with passion, and renewed our friendship with a memory of a lifetime. At the end, everybody embraced each other and promised what we all knew for sure. That we would be friends forever!

"Bum Chikku Chikku Bum,
Chikku Bum Bum,
Bum Chikku Chikku Bum!

Ek Doosre Se... Karte Hain Pyar Hum!
Ek Doosre Ke... Liye Bekaraar Hum!

Ek Doosre Ke Vaaste Agar Marne Bhi Ho...
Hai Thaiyyar Hum!"


Lord Thank you for my friends! I'd be lost without them guys!

The Trip!

Oh! What I would have given for it not to end! The trip to Pondicherry and Yercaud and 'Bangalore'... with friends! And the fun we had both in the run-up and during it. I mean when again, when an encore?

Four days before the trip, we started the campaign for the common funds. That meant visiting all the old acquaintances all of us had, and getting their varied contributions towards the common-good. The female ones were preferred. The boys almost never have any money with them. They're the ones with difficulties and inflation economies. But the girls... their parents load them up with enough money, which they have no way of spending. The only outlet is giving loans to poor boys who want to go on pleasure trips.

So there was the team under the leadership of expert canvassers Umesh and Anish, getting on the phone and that person who by had the bad luck of a sometime acquaitance with the lot of us. The money was borrowed on one pretext or the other, almost always with a promise, but never the intention, to give back the sum. I'm sure they'll get their dues in the Kingdom Come! For their priceless contribution to friendship, for their part in giving us more memories to treasure, of friendship. Three Cheers to all the benefactors who contributed to our trip!

Pondicherry was o.k. You see, we dont go bananas over beaches and that sort of thing because hometown Trivandrum has all the beaches we ever wanted, complete with Madammas lying on the sand in bikinis. Our search for a hotel in Pondi, turned out to be hilarious with people running over themselves to get us to a hotel with Caberet and swimming pool and more night entertainment. You wouldn't belive it, but we chose nay for the Cabaret and the rest and probably saved ourselves from being hauled off to some police station by kepieed policemen in the middle of the night. Nothing more to Pondi, because a bunch of guys dont think the Aurobindo Ashrama is interesting. So we skipped historical interest places, and all other interest places there was to see in Pondi. In fact we dint see much of Pondi, because all of us were bored at the thought of the culturally vibrant setting, and add the hot weather to it, we ended up seeing more of the channels on the TV at the Hotel than Pondicherry.

Gladly bidding Pondi goodbye, we left to the high point of the trip, which turned out to be the unplanned trip to Yercaud, a small hill-station about 20 kms from Salem. We spent two really wonderful days there, practically doing nothing other than making up ghost stories, and scaring each other, when we weren't running around the estate playing war like only small boys do. The team containing Manu, Sabari, Naveed and Umesh, beat us unfair and circular.

We went to the top point and all of us removed our shirts and started dancing semi-nude on the hill top amidst the fog and heavy wind. That coupled with the chill from the ghost stories which really scared Feroze and Ravi (me, I was not scared), made the experience truly wonderful.

I guess I'm not writing anymore beyond... it gives me the blues! Homesick, friendsick!

The Rolling Stone

"How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?"

Well, I don't know much about anything. But sometimes I feel, being the kind of irresponsible person I am, I might be better off being the Rolling Stone. Ah! The Bliss! Just the super-tramp, the musafir, who keeps going with no direction, giving nothing and taking nothing.

But then... I tend to do some giving. You know things like unsolicited advice. That don't cost me a thing. But turns out, unsolicited advise that actually turns out to be useful for the other guy, puts the musafir in trouble. That builds a bond that pulls the musafir back. Poor me never intended it to pull me back. I did it out of the pure goodness in me. But now turns out I'm the object of the undeserved gratefullness of another, to whom I told something which I wouldn't do with myself!

Go on... but beware of giving any of those damned lectures on things you can't do yourself! But then leaving without taking nothing. That becomes difficult for me. I spin a bond with the guy who offered me some grub when I was starving. I wanna do something for him. Surely, there can't be two rolling stones in the same town. Is there anything I can do? Oh don't you worry about that... I'm doing just fine. You could've asked for something brother. then I wouldn't have given it to you. But now you chose so selfishly to not take a favour in return of a favour. That puts me in trouble. I can't break this bond!

There's friendship and love and other beautiful things in this world!

Walk on! Roll On! But don't mind about gathering that bit of moss!

My Best Friend's Sister's Wedding!

Last month, two of my friends' sisters had their marriages. Now on an occassion like that the best friends are supposed to be around. Not just for eating extra-helpings of payasam or ice-cream. But for mental, physical and whatever other forms of support that can be given. And in fact, in the recent months we had been actually chitchatting about what role each one of us would be playing. About all of us wearing mundu's and running around being important. About serving the payasam and boli during the sadya. About welcoming mutual friends and showing them to their respective seats. About running to the flower-shop for that extra bouquet that was forgotten for some reason. About urging the guests to eat more "One more piece of chicken... Aw, come on... we thought you'd eat all of this!". About staying together the night before the marriage wreaking havoc when help would have been preferred. About...

So after all this idle talk, what happened was that I came back to Trivandrum just in time for Anand's sister's marriage. That meant I couldn't do any of the pre-wedding work. Chin-up Neil, you at least have the wedding day to make the best. Come wedding-day, I and Faiz, arrive late for the muhurtham. The only thing left now of course is to watch some others take the role's which we'd dreamt of playing. Anyway, I figured in a few snaps on the mandapam. That way at least somebody will think on seeing the photo's that I was doing something important.

So after that came Sabari's sister's engagement. There was Anish, Feroze, Manu and me from the gang. Once at the engagement venue at Attingal, we found that there Sabari's sister had enough chettans and chechis to do all those work we were supposed to do. That did it. Again the few snaps and the good food, with the extra-helpings and all. We scram!

Now the wedding's coming up. I promise myself that I'll be around to invite the guests and put up the pandal and serve the sadya and...


P.S. I wish the Chechi's of Anand and Sabari Happy Married lives!

Police Story

The other day me and my friends, were waiting in Anish's car in front of Umesh's flat, waiting patiently for the coming of His Umeshness to join us in that evening's wanderings. We had waited for some time when a police jeep drew up alongside our car and four hefty policemen with grave faces jumped out.


(P1 who has a Veerappan moustache peeps in and asks)
"What are you doing here?"
(Naveed closest to the window answers timidly)
"Nothing"
(to which)
"What nothing?"
(Naveed less timidly)
"We're waiting for our friend"
(Feroze chips-in with a broken explanatory sentence)
"Umesh(pause)Swamidas(pause)Flat(pause)7(pause)B"
(whew that took more time than you'd think)
(P2 who looks as meek as a lamb, barks at us)
"Get out here into the light"
(all of us get out with expressions of this-doesn't-bother-us-expressions, which didn't look anything like this-doesn't-bother-us-expressions)
(The P's do a thorough search of the car; even opens up the dickie, and lifts the trampoline with the cautious approach of a bomb-inspector;finding nothin the P's expressions change a shade towards friendly; P1 asks in patronizing tone)
"What do you guys do?"
(answers all around; tones gain in confidence though thoroughly shaken)
(Feroze picks a cue and ventures in a confidential tone)
"Was there a complaint?"
(P's consider themselves too high-placed to answer, but save us with a nod)
(the P's leave the scene without explanations, leaving four sheepishly grinning youngsters all alone except for the small crowd of onlookers who'd found the whole incident funny)
(we continue with our grins trying not to think about the onlookers, till the last of them left the show)


Well, what was that all about! Scared me to the 'silence is golden' mode. Me the great lawyer-to-be is probbaly too scared to speak about rights when it's required. I'm sure it's good I didn't venture into a rights talk. The lathi would've answered that. What's the use of any bloody compensation once you've been beaten up with a police lathi. No compensation prepares me for the pain that it might cause. Ooh, I'm scared.
After all this, once inside the, I come up with an idea for lodging a case of defamation against them P's.
The Hero arrives, but a trifle too late.
Trash it.

For the Record

Here's HNLU's campaign at Sydney, for the record:

http://www.spacemoot.org/ap2005.htm

For those who need to see to believe!

Me Back on Air

I'm back from the 'Down Under', where everything's cool. It's a beautiful country, with toy like houses, green lawns, colourful hoardings, big skyscrapers... I mean there's too much, that I don't know what exactly to blog about. I guess I won't do a delibrate blog. I'll relate experiences as it comes to me in between writing or thinking about something else.
My team reached the semi-finals of the competition, and in fact was the only Indian team to reach the semi-finals. That's not much, but that's kind of solace.
But I do reiterate what I've always believed... HNLU is going places. So are all HNLUites. How else do you explain the brilliance of Adarsh Abraham Varghese, who won the prize of Best Oralist (Preliminary Rounds). Proud of you my boy. And me... I'll tell my grandkids the story of the prize.

Hail Hidayatullah!

Me Down Under

That's the culmination of the effort. It really had to happen after all this. Thank God it did.
Me... I'm off to Sydney for the Asia-Pacific Round of the Manfred Lachs Space Law Moot Court Competition 2005.
We leave today on the 7:30pm train for Mumbai. Tomorrow we catch the 6:30pm Qantas direct flight to Sydney. Morning, the 11th, we'd reach Sydney, for another Glory Quest. God help us!
We'd performed good at the Bangalore funding rounds. So I believe we have just as good a chance as any other team to Glory.

And you guys, wish us luck!

Pope John Paul II

He's dead!

I am no one to write pages on the Pope's doings. There are a few points perhaps where I have an inherent disagreement with him. But neverthless, his person never ceases to amaze me. He represents Chritianity in most things he does. I well appreciate his stands on family and marriage issues. In a fast liberalising world, he did a good job stepping out to stop such liberalizations which are done for the sake of liberalization. I feel strongly on the importance of the institution of family, which the Pope sought to protect. This Pope was more of a world citizen, in that he practised tolerance of all other's unlike him. His rapproachments with Protestants, Jews and such other acts were proof of this.

I remember a news item I saw which deeply moved me. The Pope, had asked forgiveness for the sins Chritians had committed against the Jews. That moves me a lot. I mean, it's not easy to accept that you have sinned, especially when you are accepting that on behalf of a billion or so, people. And asking for forgiveness, is something that shows utmost humility which is characteristic of Christ's teaching.

The Heavenly Host Receive Him!

'Holi'day

Yesterday was Holi. I love the colours and all, but I don't see the fun in dragging people up and down a drain and plastering their faces with mud. You think I'm joking? I'm sorry, but I'm not. That's what they did to me and all the others yesterday.
I held out till afternoon, after which I decided to surrender myself unto the 'holi'gans. They came looking for me in my room and did not find me. How could they? I had already surrendered myself. But these fools in their excitement actually passed me shouting and singing, without even seeing me. I remember even calling out to them.
Finally after running around all the rooms, and cursing me and swearing that they would give me the harshest of all punishments when they found me, they came down to the front-yard of the hostel, only to see me eating Holi sweets, with a mischievous grin on my 'Holi'-coloured face. They all gave a victory cry, as if they had caught Boo Radley himself.
Then they all lifted me up and ran in procession to the drain that's there right in front of the hostel. That's the place where we all pee, when there ain't no room in the bathrooms.
So they drop me into the drain, and me being thin and all, I fit perfectly into the drain. Then they do the dragging towards the water tank where a few guys are bathing nude in coloured water. As I lay calm, knowing well enough that struggling would only mean more hurt to myself, they kept on pepping the slime on me with all sorts of toppings. So there were a few plastic covers, more slimy dirt (a bit of which went into my mouth and mixed with my 'Holi'sweets), and then more colours.
So by the time we reached the end of the drain, I was barely me. I mean, if I were to screen for a horror movie, I'm sure I'd scare the hell out of the director. I got back to my room, wearing only my U.W., and finished off one cake of soap before I could even get myself to look in the mirror. And finally, when I look in the mirror, Hey man! that's me there! I Love You!