religion...

Now ive been an agnost for the better part of my life, only having changed my views recently. I always found it hard to understand the rituals associated with the church and the constant chanting of prayers. My mother once said i ought to have been born as a Buddhist, since their prayers involves just turning the scrolls on a pillar. The person who almost always influenced me in such matters of faith was a very close family friend, Asmi. She and her twin sister, Arya were my bro's age and they were our closest family friends in Delhi.  I was closer to asmi, for the main reason that she was more approachable. She used to fill my head with ideas about the One God and why worshipping idols was a waste of time. I used to stare in wonder at this girl of just 9 who would talk like she had just deciphered the reason for wars post 2000. Now, these twins were peculiar. Arya was tall and athletic; Asmi was graceful and petite. Asmi due to her small size was almost always targeted by bullies in the colony who would throw stones at her, hurting her in the process. Just so, she felt our side of the lane safer and would take me out on the cycle for her theology classes. Amen!!

next morn...

The sun was glorious the next day as i was finally even. When small and for some now even now, there's a feeling that the world moves only when we are present. A particular lane, a street or even parts of a city come alive as we walk through it. The remaining times they just remain still.Like statues. I too felt like that when i used to go on my long walks through the colony to the house of one of my sardar frnd who was as animated as mickey mouse on seeing me, like someone had just pushed the ON button behind him. Diwali was nearing and for the people of delhi diwali means spending a year's savings on one night of fireworks. It was always about who had the largest number of fireworks. Some of my rich frnds used to buy it for more than a lakh and that was 15 years back. Imagine today!!They would burn only a quarter of it and the rest would be given as charity to kids like me who celebrated diwali on a smaller scale and whose parents had some sense not to burn off hard earned money. The view of the delhi night sky during diwali is astounding. There's no night sky!!!Just white clouds and the smell of burned paper. Now celebrations here begin a fortnight before the festival with kids burning firecrackers throughout the day. This animated frnd of mine and his group of frnds used to be in the park always playing with the masala or powder inside the crackers and burning those too. when i reached his home noone was to be found. I later came to know he was in the ICY with only a chance he would regain his eyesight. The masala he was trying to burn had not lighted properly. when he went to check on it closely, it suddenly burst into his eyes. His eyes had been burned. But like they say, the spirit of Diwali remains with the brave. His face had patches and black spots everywhere but miraculously though his eyes were covered for 2 weeks, he regained his eyesight completely. But with that incident, my parents started buying me more crackers, afraid i would also start burning the masala if there wasn't enough of the original stuff for me to burn. Diwali had just found a new client.!!!

just desserts...

That week was hell for me...i was punched and beaten in all wwf matches....But they say with every bad day, ur good days add up. The setting was perfect-the small hall in our house. Mom away at work, a lonely evening, me and my brother playing cricket in tat tiny space, with a tennis ball and a bat bigger than us. As usual, i had been forced to ball to him while he batted. You could say ive never loved damage to property more than the one which just happened..I bowled slow, my bro swung the bat and whack!!! the tube shattered in the main hall.Ha...for the first time my bro had realised his days over me were numbered. We hurriedly picked up the broken pieces and cleared the waste. Half an hour later, like the commissioner, my mom came in. My bro as usual sat glued in front of the tv, though this time round, it was my fav channel playin...Mom walked thru the hall, switched on the fan, switched on the light...................................aaaaaaahhhhhhh((((((( the thot tat jus went thru my bros mind must have been sumthin like this))))))))).....and as she turned round, i realised even my secret wuld be discovered today. A double whammy awaited us.....

contd new..

Hindi, the dreaded language of we southies was more like gibberish script to me with a line on top. I used to always wonder why the top line was needed and i hated the way certain alphabets in it seemed same. Like ba and bha.Ka and kha. ta and tha. My hindi teacher had a tough time negotiating with me. But like they say, any language you don kno, ur sure to know the swear words it contains. So was it for me. Swearing in school and home while playing, hindi or for that any matter is grasped in this down to 'earth' manner. While at school, i was once reprimanded by my teacher for not doing my homework. She couldnt understand that none in my family were expert enough in hindi for me to do my work the perfect way she wanted. What followed was insult and humiliation. She made me go to my bro's clas, bring him out from ther(don forget he was the star among teachers back then too) and she insulted me in front of my whole class, with my bro by my side, tellin me to be more studious and smart like him. Obviously my bro didnt quite think the scolding was fair  and stood embarrassed as well. My repulsion for hindi and its teachers began from tat day...And my bro got the tool to blackmail me into losing the next few matches of our wwf fight-by threatening to tellin my mom, if i failed to allow him to throw me around on the bed and try out the stunts shown on tv......lol.wwf was really ingrained into us...

contd...again..after delay

The park in my first colony in delhi....aahh..the thought of it brings back memories of my dad buying me cricket bats month after month....the swings which i could never swing beyond 1 metre high, the rolling gates and the large number of wayward lazy trees leaving only a tiny piece of land free- which we called as our cricketing pitch. it was here that we used to converge every evening to try our hand at dodging the trees and hitting the boundaries. We could hit anywhere, due to the trees we were sure no one could catch our shot. Those evenings of bliss used to be interrupted by a wide variety of starry eyed stray dogs; salivating, red eyed and smelling. It was on such an evening that the trio of us reached the ground early. since no one else had reached by then, we decided to teach the dogs a lesson, to beware of human.....kids..?Ha. It was fun throwing small stones at them, making faces and staring into their eyes( something which we regretted and kept as a lesson for the rest of life). There were 5 dogs; big and rabied...what followed was pandemonium as we were chased by those 5 dogs throughout the park, with each of them intent on ripping us apart . After a few runs of being chased and fearing for my life, i noticed my valiant bro sitting atop the gate( how he climbed up i have no idea) and my tag partner ,abou ( the valiant stead?)outside while i was the bait for 5 hungry dogs........I ran, ran, ran and finally the 2 of them threw stones at the dogs and helped me to safety. Respect for animals comes easily once u see their dark side. It was then i realised i would be an utter waste being an army man...i would run away the minute a few hungry enemy troops came behind me...I guessed i was meant for internal stuff....-wwf on the bed..not on the field...

contd..3

Now, there was this second cousin of mine who was as close to me as a bro and shared my same passions of saddisms and talking crap. I mean crap literally, not figuratively. Abou, was from a small age my better companion, who from a small age used to imagine himself as the dude in town, the all knowing jack of all trades. i was fascinated by all his bluffs and his art of story telling relating my sardar frnds and lots of dirty talk. Abou stayed near our first house in delhi and half the time me and my bro would run over ther, mainly to play wwf. we were crazy fans of wwf and would have entry lights, songs and skill show-offs before the fighting began. Me and abou would almost always be a team since my bro was like a bulldozer in those days. He was double the both of us put together. After all the initial hype, me and abou would remain outside the bed, waiting for the other to go tackle my bro. In other words, we wer jus plain scared of broken ribs, broken teeth and the biggest weapon that the three of us employed against each other, something which has remained our da vinci code and cannot be revealed here. Abou once almost choked and was gasping for breath for 10 mts. We thot we had lost him, but the loser was just acting. he later told me he did it so that my bro could employ p ateh secret weapon against me and leave him alone. So much for the fighters.

apart from fighting, playing cricket and boasting of our favourite cricket shots and executing them in the air, something we three enjoyed was making fun of dogs. And finally one day, we got our just desserts......

contd...

Risk-that single word is enough to make the biggest chicken guy of all times act like some gut-filled dude down the lane. people talk of loving to take risks, but counting the number of ppl who actually take it is as easy as a,b,c. I don take too many stupid risks, but sometimes if i feel i might regret later for not trying, i would always be game for -limited risk. walking out to play wid ma hand injured and cut was bad enough. The fact that i got out for a duck, dropped a catch and then had to go home crying due to the intense burning of ma hand after the match was worse. I had developed my phobia for diving into open spaces from that day on. It reminded me of spaces filled with glass shreds
Phobia is something that is created when u lose something u imagine ul win always. My love for acrobatics ended tat day.My fear of lizards remained. But finally one day i reversed it, and at the age of 7 took one lizard by its tail, dipped it in a bucket of water in my first home in delhi and killed it. I had conquered my fear. i had reversed phobia. From loss to victory. It was fun seeing the horrified look on my houseowner's face when she saw what i did to the lizard and most importantly to the bucket of water kept for bathing by someone in the house. she complained, my mom came roaring, i realised my back was not as thick as a hippo and i ended up on ma bed watching the lizards on my wall, satisfied that they were my pets from now on. Even today, i encourage their growth.They keep my room free from mosquitoes and more importantly they keep away from me.