"We help you die slowly"

I found this promotion post on facebook today. It was a post by 'PHD-Party Hard Drivers'

and it said-

 "You drink. We drive. And you get Rs.100/- off and a free pint from Doolally! Sounds like a good deal! :-D"

It wasn't very surprising for me to see that people 'liked' the post and gave good, happy comments. Everyone is advised to never drink and drive. No one ever put up hoardings asking people not to drink. I think they know there isn't any point in doing so.


"You drink. We drive" is euphemism for "We'll help you have a slow death."
Organ damage and organ failure is waayyy slower than an accidental death after all.

The day after 26/7: Part II: Homeward journey continues

Continued from the previous post... (I really did not mean to delay this post so much. I was just too occupied with other things.)


To go or not to go was the question. I had no time to stand and analyse. I wanted to reach home fast. Very fast. But my common sense knocked hard at me, or so I'd like to believe, and told me to believe in the majority of people who were coming back from the deep water warning us not to go any further. BUT I was being ruled majorly by my fear of the dark. Water or no water, I was sure as hell not walking into pitch darkness. Nah! I told them I'm not going any further, did not wait to see their reaction and like a few people around, got into the first bus in the line. It was a double decker and there was no place to sit. I saw there were some seats where a third person managed to squeeze in. I did the same. I saw a seat with two females, asked them to shift just a bit and tried to fit in there.

There was knee deep water all around and I was glad to be out of it for a while. Called mom and told her the situation. She agreed with my decision of spending the night in the bus. I was quite comfortable in my seat after a while of shifting and adjusting. The rain did not stop. The lights in the bus were on- by public demand. Every time the bus driver put the lights off, there'd be a loud 'AAAEEYYYYY!!' and the lights would be on again!

At around midnight, I noticed a Maruti 800 parked just outside the bus. The water had reached about 2 inches below the window of the car. That was my reference level for the night, to check how much the water level would change. I kept dozing off through the night. Mom called many times to make sure I was safe. I often checked the car window. Not an inch difference in the water level all through the night.

Day 2: The day after 26/7

It was 5:30 am when it was bright enough for anyone interested to start walking or swimming. I was wide awake listening to people's discussions about what they were planning to do. Many of them formed small groups and left the bus. Someone tapped on my shoulder. I turned around to see a girl who seemed to be my age.

"Where do you have to go?" she asked me.

"To the suburban side."

"Are you coming with us? My friend and I are going to start walking. We stay in Kurla. You can go ahead after that."

"Walking? In so much water? No, I rather wait in this bus for the water to recede. You carry on. Thanks! *smile* "

*no smile* My my! The girl was serious! "How long are you going to wait? You think this water is going to vanish? It’s going to take very long. I'm telling you. Join us."

She sounded convincing, but I wondered why everyone wanted me to go with them. Did I have a 'HELP ME!!!' written all over me or something? I called mom and we decided that I should go with her. Well, mom knows best!

I was sort of dry by then and shuddered at the thought of walking in water again. We stepped out. The water was sooo cold at that time of the morning. But we didn't step back. And there, once again, started my journey back home. We were about 6 or 7 people in the group. We held hands so that no one would fall and die... unnoticed! On our way, we met a man in his fifties and asked him the way. He was a local and had come to help people find their way.

"There is a short cut from here. Follow me."

"Uncle, is the water level high where we're going?"

"No, no, there's no water anywhere ahead," he assured us.

Yay!! We smiled at each other happily and followed him in knee deep water. It was still raining, but thankfully, not too heavily. After a while of walking in knee deep water (I can't really estimate right now for exactly how long I walked), we reached an area where the roads were just wet - not even any flowing water there. How very happy we were! After all, local uncleji was right!

Further ahead we walked, water rose, and this time we were in waist deep water. Felt so icky and funny walking in that!

Such a wavy road it must have been.

Knee deep - no water - waist deep - no water - chest deep - no water - neck deep - no water - knee deep again... and then... we saw a crowd of people ahead of us. And there was a lot of shouting and screaming too. Something was surely wrong there. We went ahead. (This time, only 3 of us from the group were left - the girl who called me (Lini), her friend and I. The others had gone their respective ways) As we neared the crowd, the men turned back to look at us.

"Females can go back. You cannot go any further. Go back."

!!! Go Back?? Ridiculous!! That's what I feel now. Back then my thoughts were: I have to go back. Must look for another way to go. Or will have to wait here till the water is all gone. I was so scared and sad at that time. I was so emotionally weak.
My brave companion came ahead. "Why can't we go?"

"You are short. There is 6 feet water here."

Even if I want to go, I cannot. 6 feet!!! Good lord!

"The men here aren't that tall either," she told me. "Let's go."

The men who were discouraging us were suddenly supportive and helpful. There were many locals out there who had come just to help people reach their homes safely.

With every step I took, I could feel myself getting submerged a little more. Soon, the water was touching my chin. We were on the tips of our toes trying hard to keep our noses above water. I was actually concentrating more on keeping my mouth above all that dirty water!

"Madam, chhaata bandh karo na!" (Close your umbrella)

Isshh! That's when I realised that I had my umbrella open all the while. As always, I did the best I could, to not catch a cold!

"Oh Jesus, oh Lord Jesus..." Lini kept chanting.

We were so worried, almost in tears when the water was just below the mouth. That's when someone yelled, "Hold the ropes" and then told us, "Here, here, hold this."

I held on to the thick, horizontal rope and as instructed, kept moving my legs in the water when I could feel my legs getting automatically lifted. We were made to hold bamboos too. I couldn't feel the ground for a few minutes there. It felt good... as if it was a swimming crash course. I didn't know how to swim, but still I managed to stay afloat. It felt great!

Soon, I felt my toes touching the ground and then I was walking on earth again and the water level kept decreasing. I was alive :) They had asked the females not to go further, and we had managed to cross that barrier. That was one part I really loved. Before going any further, I turned around to see where the bamboos and ropes suddenly appeared from.

Aah! That was a good arrangement they have there. Bamboos were fixed to the ground at about 20 feet from each other and ropes- very thick ropes- had been tied to them forming a link. There were people holding the bamboos to keep it in place. They even held some bamboo sticks horizontally. The purpose? To help people less than 6ft of height keep their heads above water!

"Come on. We're reaching. My house is just around the corner." Lini had already convinced me that trying to go home would be very dangerous for me and that I should stay at her place till things were manageable. I turned and we started going ahead. After a few minutes, we reached the last dangerous spot of our journey, where we all had to walk in a curve, follow the person just in front of us and not step to the sides. There were invisible boundary lines. Anyone who stepped to the sides were slipping and falling. Of course, the locals were there too, positioned and ready to help people out of any danger. Last barrier crossed successfully :)

We were again on a road with only ankle-deep water and reached Lini's building's gate. The compound was at a lower level than the road. So, through knee deep water we waded into her building. Inside, we saw the wet building walls and realised that the ground floor was totally submerged on the previous day. Lini stayed on the first floor.

She pressed the doorbell. Silence. No electricity. Knock knock! A smiling lady (Lini's young aunt) opened the door.

"Aah... you're the first one to come back. No one has reached yet."

"No one's back? Where are they?"

"They stayed back in office itself."

"Oh! They told you that?"

"No. I'm just assuming."

Assuming??? Good lord! Bring them back home, whoever they are!

After a few minutes of introduction and explanations for why the hall was full of things from the ground floor house (it was because the ground floor was submerged), I fished out my phone from my wet bag. Blank screen. Click click cluck cluck.. Not working. The last I spoke to mom was at around 5:35 am. Lini's phone? Blank. Landline? Dead.

Mom is a bag of worries. I just HAVE to let her know I'm safe. Have to find out if dad and brother reached. Hope that Lini's relatives will reach. Alive.

...to be continued... 

The next post is going to be really delayed because I'm caught up with life transforming procedures!)

*** For Part III, click here ***

The day after 26/7 : Part I

Coming up is a long narration - an account of the 26/7 floods in Mumbai, that almost killed me. I don't want to cut it short and miss details, so, I wrote it in parts. Each part is NOT one day.

Day 1: 26/7

It was around 4 pm and I was on my way back home from college. College is almost 50 kms away from home (rail route). It had been pouring since morning. I normally travel by train, but since it was flooded at most areas, the tracks were under water, and trains had stopped running. So, I had to take a bus home. Slowly and not so steadily, after reaching less than halfway, the bus stopped behind an uncountable number of other vehicles. Nothing was moving beyond this area. I was in Kurla, one of the most low lying regions in Mumbai. Guess the time. 9:30pm! Yeah, that's how much time it took for the bus to travel a distance it would normally cover in less than an hour.

As we all sat there wondering when the bus would move and praying hard that things would be normal soon, a well dressed, sensible looking young man climbed into the bus from the front door and made an announcement.

"Buses are not going to move till 12 noon tomorrow. The roads ahead are flooded, so vehicles will not move and trying to walk is very foolish and dangerous. So right now, you are in the safest place. Those of you who don't have place to sit, you can try the buses ahead of this one. There are seats vacant in there. Try calling up your people at home and tell them the situation. But remember, right now you are in the safest place possible."

He stepped out and walked to the bus behind. That was nice of him. But what I heard was not nice at all. 12 noon tomorrow??!! I was hoping to reach home by 10 pm. Today!

Dolphin (MTNL) network was still good while Hutch, Airtel and others did not work. I was a Dolphin user. So, for the next couple of hours, there were lots of people in the bus trying to call up at their homes from my cell. Some of them succeeded. I spoke to mom. She was at home. Our landline phone was one of the very few phones that worked in our area. Magic or God's grace - whatever you like to believe. Dad was on his way back home from work and my brother was walking back home in knee deep water with his college friends. A few people in the bus started getting off saying there were many more people walking and crossing the Kurla bridge. They called me too to join them. Now these 'people' were younger that the young announcer, not well dressed and not a bit sensible looking. But still, I saw a ray of hope. Reaching home was the only thing on my mind.
Once I cross Kurla bridge, I'll get a bus home. That would be fast.

So, I got down and followed these people. Bad crowd. Scary actually, thinking of it now. Walking, we reached the bus that was first in line. No vehicles ahead of it. Only darkness and lots of water. And oh yes, there were people, walking towards us as if they just came out of the water. All they had to say was - "Don't try to go ahead, water current is strong. Anyone could be pulled in. That's why we're coming back."

I wouldn't dare! I can't even swim :-(

"Come with us, we can try. All you need is to cross the bridge. Come with us."

Why do these people always have things to do, which everyone else is advising them not to? And why do they keep calling me with them? And why did I listen to them the first time? What should I do? Maybe they have good intentions? To go or not go to - was the question.

...to be continued...

 *** For Part II, click here ***

Happy Birthday Reena Ma'am :')

It was 15 years since I had hidden my passion in the interiors of my hesitant vocal cords. It often tried to push its suffocated self out of me when I was alone; but I only allowed it to come out as a hum. I accepted the long arrest of my passion and took it for dead.

Till one day the push was so hard that I headed straight to this place that taught music. There I met the friendliest face I had seen in a very long time. She wanted to hear the range of my voice and asked me to sing the classical notes. Under normal circumstances, I would shy away. But my arrested passion threatened aloud from within me to commit suicide and so I sang. The friendly, fresh faced lady sitting across me said she'd take my first class on that day itself and we began. I sat facing her.

Reena Ma'am. My first music teacher. The person who was going to make me sing again. The person who had made it her responsibility to free my singing voice from its lifetime imprisonment.

She encouraged me by appreciating when I was doing well and corrected me whenever I was wrong. She never rebuked or criticised. Her way of teaching was different. She taught me the way my mother used to teach me when I was in school. While her fingers ran across the harmonium, she sang along and soon, that hidden part of me had happily come out to hug the person who had lured it out ;)

To her kid students, she is a sweet mother, to the bigger ones, she's a friend. With the 1000 Watt smile that flashes a perfect set of pearly whites and a laughter that can make a crying baby smile, she is the bright sun of my music class. She is someone I'd always want to be in touch with, whichever part of the world life's journey takes me.

Today is her birthday. I wish this carefully and beautifully made creation of God, a wonderful day and a year full of joy, peace, good health, music and love, in and around her. I wish her innumerable happy moments. After all, achhe logon ke saath hamesha achha hota hai <3

Love you ma'am! You're such a sweetheart!! ^_^

School-less spellings

You've got to have studied in a really bad school if you're making so many spelling mistakes. I am not talking about SMS lingo here. That has become fashion now. I feel disgusted when I see people typing 'know' as 'noe'. 'Know' doesn't even have an 'e' in it. While typing on a computer, how many extra milliseconds will it take you to type out a word correctly and completely. And if you're really trying to save time by typing self invented, shorter versions of the word, why would you want to use letters which aren't even there in the word? Irks me.

I wasn't intending to criticize SMS lingo. Its the spelling mistakes some people who are not from vernacular medium schools make, that surprise me.

Habbit. That's more like rabbit! Habit has only ONE 'b', folks! Get that right.

Loose. One doesnt loose their belongings. You sure can loosen your grip on them, but you usually lose them. Not loose. Clothes get loose when you lose weight. Those English spelling designers are to be blamed too. But I can't believe you didn't learn that in school.

My bad. Fashion. Wrong. As wrong as "A beautiful came." A beautiful who? My bad what?

How's you? may probably be declared officially correct soon. Next time someone asks me that, I'll tell them, "I is fine".

This post is the result of a facebook status message of my friend whom I am extremely fond of. She was talking about her childhood 'habbit' of 'loosing' her anklets. 'My bad' that single anklets wasn't fashion then, she wrote. I usually overlook mistakes of people I like. Spelling mistakes, I can't.

Face mask

Yes, it IS indeed very embarrassing when you are in an auto with your students and the driver asks you whether u are a medical student or an engineering student.

Karan Singh Rathore: Part II - Happy Birthday, Karanji :)

(continued from here...)

Months briskly tiptoed away. Life was pretty much the same with mornings spent in college and evenings, partying with pen and paper while we relished on Karan Singh’s little poems and panktiyaan. VII sem was training semester when we did not have to attend college. We had to undergo 20 weeks training in either an industry or a hospital. So, I was not living in a hostel anymore.

It was 5th November, Wednesday, my birthday and I was on my way home. Internet at home was messed up, so I went to a cyber café before I reached home. Opened my mailbox.. and.. almost collapsed with what I saw in there. Goodness gracious sakes alive!
A mail from Karan. Sub: Happy Birthday!!

Do I need to tell you now how I reacted? I was in a cyber café, so I let out a record breaking softest happy, excited scream. When I came back to my senses, I was confused. How did he know it was my birthday!? Surely my gang of girls must’ve done something! I started reading the mail. It was a long one. He had wished me a great day, happiness and blessings and then followed my birthday gift- 5 panktiyaan that he had written, ones that he had never read on air or published anywhere, ones for which I was going to be the first one to read :) I was overjoyed!! That was the best gift I could get. Unseen creations from the creator himself. :) Bliss I felt.
While replying to the mail, I realized it was a Wednesday; on Thursday, he used to take calls or call selected people who mailed him their numbers. I wrote my number there and said that I’d love to be on air the next day.

A very happy girl I was when I stepped out of the cyber café. On reaching home, mom told me there had been a lot of calls and that everyone said they’d call back later. I happily settled on the sofa, thinking of.. no, not Karan’s mail.. but of the lovely chocolate cake that was waiting for me. The phone calls started.

TRINNG TRINNGGGG.....
I reluctantly got up, knowing the call was for me and staggered to the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hello? May I speak to...” went the male voice.
Mighty heavens what a voice! Call is for brother. I should ask who it is. Damn what a sexy voice!
“...Shruti?” the male voice completed his question.
Call for me!!?? “Speaking.. who’s this?”
“Shruti, many many happy returns of the day”
“Thank you.. who’s this?”
“You didn’t recognize my voice?”
“No, who is it?” I was beginning to get very irritated now because this stranger was making me talk and not telling who he was grrrr!!!
I heard a light, silent chuckle from the other end. I waited for his answer with a frown.
Finally, he spoke, “Aksar hum… Hindi mein baatein kiya karte hain..”
:-O “!!!! Karan Siiiiiiingh!!!!” I yelled into the phone like an excited teen! I recognized that tone, that style.. when voice and words came together, I recognized the stranger behind the voice!
“Ohmygodohmygod.. This is such a lovely surprise”
*silent chuckles from the other end again* (that’s Karan’s style of laughter, all you get to hear is breathing sounds)
“You had written your number in the mail, to maine socha aapko aaj hi call karke wish kar doon.”
“Thank you so much Karanji, you made my day..” I happily chirped into the phone.. At this moment, I noticed two pairs of huge surprised eyes on very confused faces studying me from a distance- mom’s and brother’s. LOL!!

Karan told me that my friends had mailed him asking him to wish me. We spoke for a few minutes before I reluctantly ended the conversation with a heavy ‘bye'. *sigh* Why are goodbyes so difficult?
After a quick explanation for my hyper reactions to my mom and brother, I cut my cake happily. Calls followed and I told my gang about what had happened.
PRaNkSS, u gals are precious :-*

Soon after dinner, I hit the bed with the radio plugged into my ears. This time, it felt like I was listening to an old friend. The show went on in its usual grandeur till it was time to say shubh raatri. To my surprise, before ending the show, he wished ‘Shrutiji a happy birthday once again.’ Such a sweetheart! What say? :)
Such a memorable birthday that one was! :)

Today, the writer-painter-sculptor-singer, the man with the heavenly voice celebrates his birthday.
Karanji, from me and from all of us, your ardent admirers, here’s a grand, genuine, heartfelt wish for you to have the best birthday ever and a superb, successful, joyous year ahead! :) May the mighty God above keep showering you with blessings forever and ever...

A lovely yummy chocolate cake is going to me cut in my house today :) because its my mom's birthday too! Happy birthday lovely mommy :-*

(Karan's story to be continued...)