Soul Stirrer

The world is getting bitter. Living here is getting a tedious task each passing day. People are selfish. Everyone is thinking about himself only.
Let alone strangers our own friends and people who we thought were close, are proving to be not so good after all. Now either you can do a “Mahatma Gandhi”, resolute to change the world, or just like everybody else, be “bad”. I was inevitably getting into the later section.

When no body cares for me, why should I? I can’t change the whole world alone. And moreover it’s not MY job to do it. If its bad, let it be bad, I’ll try to make my life good.

One fine day when everything was looking as normal as it can be, something abnormal was scheduled for me. It was beginning of weekend and I, being sick and tired of the regular office to home schedule, wanted a break. For what day have I got the bike…?? And away I was… cruising at 80 kmph… not very sure where I was heading… but I was sure I’ll be away from this big bad city, the bad people, the bad job and everything that is bad. But badness is not going to spare me so easily. A big SUV hits my bike and runs away… leaving me and my pillion on the road. I don’t know when and what good deeds I had done, but surely something I had done, for which both of us were saved. Except for some scratches here and there.

The SUV driver, another bad person…!! Didn’t even bother to stop to see if we were alive, leave alone helping and apologizing. O why would he...?? had he stopped to help and god forbid if we were badly injured or who knows maybe even killed, he would have been in trap… police, courts… and what not… So like anybody else he thought about HIMSELF and ran away. Well not ethical but a very natural and expected reaction in the times we are living.

Next day, I had bandage on my wrist and elbow. I was not able to ride bike, to my colleague was driving it for me, I was the pillion. We were waiting at traffic signal, when those scary and irritating people begging at the signal, appeared. Well if you can call it begging, they ask for money with such conviction and authority as if we owe them. The moment I saw them the mood, already not in very good shape, just blew. It got worse when I saw one coming straight to us. O boy… I don’t even have change. I turned my face the other side. She came to us. I was not looking at her. She knocked on my shoulders. This is too much… can’t she understand I am ignoring her… I turned, prepared to say “aage jaao”. She was pointing at the bandage at my wrist and asked “kya hua??”
What…?? She doesn’t want money…?? She wants to know what happened to my hand…?? This can’t be true. I looked straight into her eyes… o god… I found genuine concern. I couldn’t help but said “kuch nahi, bike se gir gaya tha”… she was still inspecting the severity of the damage on my wrist. Turned to me, smiled and in one of the most reassuring manners I had heard in recent times, said “koi baat nahi, theek ho jaayegaa” and moved on to next vehicle.

What was that…?? The most irritating citizens of urban India have a heart. She actually didn’t ask for any money, just asked about my injury, wished me quick recovery and went…!! I was already feeling a lot better. And for the first time wished had given her something.

We reached office. The security person, whom I daily look at, many times ignore and every time annoyed by his useless frisking, was there again. But today I was feeling beamy after what happened at signal. “What happened sir? Accident?” I turned to the voice. There stood the same security guard, not asking my permission to check my bag, but asking about the injury. “o just a minor accident” I said. “Bangalore’s traffic is like that only. You have to be careful all the time” he said and let me in without frisking.

What’s going on? Is everything alright with the world? Is everything alright with me?
In the office everyone who saw the wound was curious, concern and sympathetic and helpful. What caught them all? Are they same colleague when invented the terms like ‘cut throat competition’ and ‘back stabbing’? The pain in the injury was overshadowed by the affection. The overwhelming affection. Genuine affection.

Hey…!! What’s that in the corner of my eye…? No, that can’t be a tear…!! I can’t cry. I am not an emotional fool. But again, I’ve not eaten anything fluffy, then what’s that lump in my throat…?? Why am I realizing today that people around me actually do smile. And boy, do they look great in that smile. Why am I hearing those people standing there laughing, when everyday I pass by them, skeptical of “what’s cooking” and never heard that laughter before. Why the same sunshine which was harsh till yesterday, is bright today. From where did these birds in the tree outside, came from. Why am I not feeling any pain anymore…?? What hell is going on..?? I still don’t have the best of the jobs, I am still not doing what I want to do, I still don’t have what I want in life… then why am I feeling content? Why my lips are curving upside… why hell am I smiling…?? Someone has changed the whole world around me in a single day…!! Or is it just me, my view that has changed. Has the world suddenly become beautiful or was it always like that only I opened my eyes and heart today…

In the evening, I went to temple to thank god for saving me from that accident and for making the world so beautiful. When I come out of temple, every time I give the ‘prasad’ to a poor old lady standing at the gates of the temple. Today as usual when I approached her to give the prasad, ignoring the packet she asked, “Oh… how did you get injured??”

The bitter world is getting better…

Close Encounter of First Kind. Chapter 3

September 2004. After serving the US based BPO for less than 2 months, I got into a employment and study collaboration program. It involved one of the pillars of booming India's backbone. The Information Technology industry had given a new recognition world over. We were THE IT guys. We could do 3 times better job at 3 times lesser cost. After seeing a dip in late 1990s, IT was back... leading the great Indian success story. And here I was, in an IT firm which was amongst the top 3 in India and amongst the most respected world over. And in collaboration was a company sponsored Master's degree, again from an university counted amongst top 3 in India. Seems a dream... so what's the catch...??? Well, being in top IT company, for us didn't mean a hefty pay cheques. We were given just about life sustainable "scholarships". But who's complaining...?? Work experience in top company, Master's degree from top university and a scholarship as well... life was never so good... I was living in a dream...

But getting mere scholarships, again meant that I could not afford a bike just as yet... but I can start planning for it. But my mom had some other plans. "Nothing doing... a considerable chunk of the salary (in fact the scholarship) will go into Reccuring Deposit in Post Office Saving Bank." And it did. Bike was so close yet so far... So, now I'll have to buy a bike on EMI. But I'll have to give some down payment for that as well, a vehicle is not 100% financed. Now my target was the downpayment amount. 10 months and I almost reached there... now I was thinking of when...?? should I get it on my birthday or new year...?? It was only a matter of time... and I'll be on my steel machine...!! But fate has it's own plans. As soon as I was able to save enough for the downpayment, I was transferred to Bangalore, the IT Capital of the country. All the savings were drained in new city... I had to start from the scratch. Money was needed to setup a house... bed, bed covers, pillows, utensils, TV, security deposit for rented house... in short, the 10 months saving took less than 10 days to vanish. The bike again took the back seat. Untill the day when one of my roommates did the unthinkable. He bought a second hand bike and showed me the way... "I can also buy a second hand bike, instead of waiting endlessly for a brand new one". That was it. Now saving enough for a second hand bike, though still difficult, was still achievable task. And with it started the quest. All classified were milked. And finally came the day, 4th July 2008, when she was mine... Bajaj Pulsar 150 cc. A dream nurtured for 8 years, finally came true. I HAVE A BIKE NOW....!!

Commuting was never the purpose of the bike. The beast was meant to roar... and the cramped city roads seldom provide enough opportunity to spread her wings. So highways it was. Not that I never use it in city, but the glory and pleasure comes when the city slowly shrinks in the rear view mirror. I try to leave the city traffic snarls behind once every month. Though may not make it everytime. Mysore, Hoggenakkal, Lepakshi, Shivasamudram, Nandi Hills... anything within 200km and I am ready for it. So... why was I skeptical for Bandipur over a long weekend...?? It was a signal, which none of us was able to gauge.

We left at about 3:30 pm, Friday. The plan was to reach Mysore by evening and leave for Bandipur early morning on Saturday. Bag packs, tanks full, air pressure checked, trip metre reset to zero... And voilla... here we leave. 2 Bajaj Pulsar bikes, 4 people, Bangalore-Mysore Highway and 3 days on a trot... things never looked so pleasing before. But remember... we were riding not just the bikes, but our lucks as well... we had willfully and whole heartedly ignored not one, not two but three clear signals... looks like we were destined for this, destined for the Close Encounter of First Kind...!!

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We had planned a halt after every 60 minutes or 60 km, whichever is earlier. After taking a relatively longer and more trffice prone route to leave the city, we covered only 28 km in first 60 minutes. And it was time for our first halt. A highway dhaba. We were not feeling hungry, so just some streching and a coke. The signboard on the dhaba read, Mysore 128 km. Not more than 3 hours, including halts, we decided. Me and my pillion, both were having a knapsack. It was getting a bit uncomfortable for both of us if I carried the bag on my back. So after the halt, I hung the bag on my chest, and pillion hung his, on his back... making the seating a lot more comfortable. How crucial this arrangement was going to be.....

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Roads were smooth, traffic managable, it was still not dark and bike was responding well to the throttle... we were cruising at 70-80 kmph. We had travelled some 12 km after the halt. I was leading the way and the other biker was following some 20 meters behind me. As it is a very normal sight on a highway, a 16 wheeled monster was reeling ahead us. Thankfully he was in the slow lane... else usually these monster wander in fast lanes... He must be at 50 kmph, we were 80 kmph. We were not exactly behind him, but say behind his right tail lights... I took a slight bent to its right to overtake... This was my 7th excursion on bike in last 9 months...come one...!! I know how to manoeuver on the highways. Slight right bent it was... we were safely overtaking the container truck. There was nothing in the rear view mirror...

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BANG...!! Headlamps of a dark grey Mahindra Scorpio, my helmet in the rear view mirror of Scorpio, a moment of pause, BANG.. again, tarmac 3 inches from my face, bike rolling on highway, whole world rotating around, or was it me who's rotating, other biker's glimpse in one rotation, a few cars zooming past in other, my bare hands trying to get hold of earth, my body refusing to stop the rotations... finally force of gravity and friction brings me to halt. No sounds, nothing is audible...some 40 odd seconds... I don't know what happenned.. or do I...??

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Few minutes later things started to make sense again... make sound again. The first thing I heard was the second biker, who was running 20 m behind me, heavily abusing the driver of Mahindra Scorpio. Boy...!! that was an accident. A SUV running at more than 120 kmph had hit us. My bike flew in the air and so did me and the pillion. And the knapsack arragement was criticle. Both me and pillion fell on the bags. Bags that contained clothins and towels, bags that doubled as our sheilds, bags that took all the jerk, all the impact of the fall, bag that saved us. Only a few scratches, just a little cut on the palm, a torn jacket, damaged bags, bent leg gaurds of the bike and we...!! God... we are saved. NOTHING happened. The hit was so loud people sitting 50 m came running at the spot. I was told that pillion stood up as soon as he came to halt after the rotation drama, but I took some time and crawled a few step, slowly stood up and came off road. The pillion's wound seemed very severe to me, but it wasn't. So was my. All three, me the pillion and the bike, were spared of any serious damage... if fact any damage at all, considering the intensity of the impact.

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Once back in to normal, impact analysis began. My wind cheater jacket was torn on left elbow, scratched on right wrist. No damage to jeans. I was wearing spectacles which were intact and amazingly the helmet was scratchless... Bag bore the burnt, both the bags. In physical damage... I had sratches on right forearm, a wound on left elbow, a cut on my right hand palm and little blood clot in index finger. The pillion had a wound on right elbow. NO fractures.. we both were easily able to stand up and walk. On 500 m was a small school of nursing. They did the dressing. The iodin tincher was hell... but not as bad as what had happened few min ago.

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Phew...!! 40 seconds is all it took to rewind the whole life of 26 years. Now I realise how short a life I've lived. There are so many people whom I am still to say "I care". There are so many dreams attached with me that I have to fulfill... and "... I've promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep". It was, touch wood, my first experience... my first close encounter. First time I saw both life and death so closely. First time I realise how precisous life is and how priceless it can be. First time I realise... LIFE IS SHORT...!!

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We dropped the plan to move further and returned home. On the way back we stopped at the first temple we found... thanked lord for his kind blessing and seek forgiveness for so royally ignoring his signals... The incident should not dent our spirits... so clicked some photos with all the bandages... and walked clean (well almost) from the Close Encounter of First Kind....

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The city is visible again... ready to accept us despite the disrespect and indifferne we show to her... like a mother.. waiting to embrace a injured son... We are already feeling safer, better and happier in her lap....

Close Encounter of First Kind. Chapter 2

I've loved to drive a two wheeler ever since I can remeber. I remember my first set of 2 wheels was my bicycle. And touch wood, the only set of 2 wheel which threw me out of seat when I was learning to tame it. But once I was in control, it felt like the roads are not enough. Every morning before school, every evening after school and every other occassion that I could get... I was found on the bicycle. Suddenly I became the obedient and caring son of my mother. I'll get the milk, bread, grocary. I'll go and post the letter. I'll go and inform the aunty in next street about the Pooja in our house... I'll do everything which requires me to ride my baby devil.

The enthusiasm was same when at the tender (and illegal) age of 13 I got hold of my dad's Bajaj scooter. And instead of being reluctant to let me drive a scooter at 13, I guess he felt a litttle proud. He himself tough me to ride a scooter. And after that there was not looking back. In those days Bajaj used to be the the ultimate dream machine. I used to flaunt it to the girls on the street, in the market and everywhere I could see them. "See, I can drive a scooter at the age of 15... isn't that cool..." was the message I used to emitt whenever I was on the driver's seat. In fact the term drive/driver does not go with a 2 wheeler... so now on I'll not drive it, I'll be riding it and I'll a rider here on.

By the time I reached high school (12th class), Bajaj Scooter, the Dream... started to fade. It was overshadowed by the new star on the road... a motorcycle or as we all call it... a BIKE. Its not that it was the time when the "Bike concept" was started. Rajdoots, Enfeilds and Yamaha RXs were always there... but it was the time when bikes re-invented themselves. It was the time when the bike ceased to be a bad boy's toy and started to be common man's ticket for some fun. Some adrenaline pumping without being on the wrong side of the law. And it was the time that saw the advent of Hero Honda Splendour, India's first 4-stroke bike. Engine refinement, power, milage and never seen before looks to die for, HH Splendour catapulted to be India's (and soon world's) largest selling bike. Every teen ager (and many not so teen agers too) had a new dream machine. Splendour did to 2 wheeler market what Maruti 800 did to 4 wheelers. Though Bajaj (synonymous to scooters in India) still was house hold name, it still was the great Indian middle class's life line, but Splendour (or should I say BIKE) had definitely arrived.

So, now somewhere in there, I had a dream to own a bike. But neither were we such a रईस family that we could afford to have a luxary of 2 vehicles, nor was dad willing to let go his Bajaj for my bike. "You cannot even keep 500 gm potatoes in a bike, and on scooter you can carry whole month's ration".. I simply had no reason big enough to beat that. One possible way could have been... if I perform too well in the 12th board exams (and by too well I mean at least 80%+ score in all subjects), and ask for a bike as tribute to my hardwork, I could get one. But 80 percent...!! Are you crazy...!! Suddenly convincing my dad to let go his Bajaj was looking easier option. So, the 'bike dream' took a back seat, but never left... it always was there.

College days were spent in awe and jealousy for those who had bikes. And invariably all of them got a girl as well, for pillion ride. We, gang of 5-6, were deserted in both departments. No bike, no girl. Slowly I was convinced that I don't have any of the 2, because I am not worth it. I accepted the fate and started to learn without both. Though the learning was hard, tough and many times heart breaking. And salt to all my injuries was that guy in my class VSR (sorry but I wont take the full name). First he got the girl I (and many others) were eyeing for... and if that was not bad enough after 1st semester he got HH Karizma, THE bike of that time. Standing on the bus stop in cruel Delhi heat and VSR zooms past riding Karizma with my girl sitting behind... boy I wish I could put those feeling in words... it can only be experienced... not written. Somehow... as time passed I learnt to live with (and without) it. Now I knew the only sure shot way to get a bike was, as they say the BEST way, to earn it. I decided as soon as I finish college and start earning, I'll get myself a bike. Though how would I get the pillion rider, if at all I get one, was still not clear.

College finally came to an end travelling in DTC buses. Now facing me was even a bigger challenge. A monster which I always thought existed in stories and not in reality. I was facing unemployment. Suddenly the Computer Graduate degree was looking like the consolation certificate in a debate competition, which you can be proud of, but no one else is bothered to even look at it. I realised that the degree might have been something when I joined the college, but by the time I got it in my hands, the world has moved ahead. Now everyone wants either a Master's Degree, an engineering degree or working experience. I had none. Now what..? now where do I go from here? What do I do now..?? Is it all over..?? Well, not just yet. They need a master's degree, they'll get a master's degree. I decided I'll do Masters in Computer Application. I wrote all the MCA entrance exams that I could and all that I could afford. But as the luck would have it, my rank was not enough to get through the Top colleges. Tier 2 college with higher fee structure.... wasn't making any sense to me. So came the big bold step (again), I'll wait for one more year and clear the exam next year. But what till then..? Well another big and ambitious decision. I'll earn and pay for my coaching. But how...? I needed to do a master degree in the first place only because the bachelor's degree was not good enough to get me a job. But thanks to Raman Roy, the father of BPO industry in India, me and thousands like me got the dignity, the pride and contentment to EARN. I got into a US based BPO. The bike which took a backseat in front of bigger 'unemployment' issue, started to come to the fore again....

Close encounter of First Kind. Chapter 1

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Sometimes, it seems like we've been living for so long... it seems like life has got saturated. But have you ever come across a moment when the whole life flashes before your eyes and you realise that the life is so short. You realise that you have done nothing, acheived nothing. There are pelthora of things to be done, lots of things to be said... you suddenly recall those golden words "... miles to go before I sleep" and realise how true they've always been.

One such moment came in my life last Friday. Friday being Labor Day was an off from office, making it a long weekend. Living away from home has its own implications। I remember when I was at home, no weekend was long and even longer weekend went past before we know. But not now. Now every holiday, every weekend and especially every long weekend, brings, along with joy, a strange tension. "Three complete days at home...!!", "इससे अच्छा तो ऑफिस ही था " and many such feelings start to play on your mind. So, we had to go out. And we did.

Bandipur is national park, one of the 15 forests selected for the (in)famos Project Tiger in India. Forest department allows camping and many government and private tour operators organise camps. And what's more... if you are lucky you may even come face to face with the King, the Tiger. Situated at about 220 km from Bangalore and some 80 km from Mysore, this national park cought our thoughts. The quetion now was HOW...?? trains and buses were running over croweded, and though we could have gone hanging in one of them, one of us had a bad backache. Then out of nowhere originated the idea of going by bikes. Boy, this DHOOM series of movies and reading about the Royal Enfeild's Himalayan Odyssys, surely has its impact. Everyone owing a pair of two wheels now wants to burn the highways. Despite being a bike enthsiast, I was somehow not convinced by the idea. I insisted for public transport, train or bus. But in a country where even government succumbs to majority's pressure, how could I withstand. I too agreed for a 3 day bike ride. Though there was something in my mind, someone in there saying DON'T. Was it the last warning....??

Discussing on the mode of travel took a good part of Friday. By the time we decided that it would be bikes, it was 2:30 pm by the time we packed and got ready to go, it was 3:15. And if I thought that "something" in my mind was the last warning... it was not. A very normal sunny day suddenly turned into dark cloudy. A few rain drops on the window pane declared that the dogs that bark, may bite also. But we ignored this second warning as well and decided to go ahead even if it rains. Then came the final signal from that 'someone' deep in (or maybe high up) there. One of the pillion rider insisted that we should have helmets for the pillions as well. We tried. Asked everyone we could for extra helmet. Didn't get any. Should we go without helmets for the pillion riders then...?? "Hell yess..!!" was the unanimoust answer.

And voilla... here we leave. 2 Bajaj Pulsar bikes, 4 people, Bangalore-Mysore Highway and 3 days on a trot... things never looked so pleasing before. But remember... we were riding not just the bikes, but our lucks as well... we had willfully and whole heartedly ignored not one, not two but three clear signals... looks like we were destined for this, destined for the Close Encounter of First Kind...!!