Rain

So, me, Jatin sir, Mukesh sir and Rana sir were walking down to my cousin’s place because he was putting up his house for rent and these guys were interested. We could see the dark clouds. And I had been continuously smiling because the dark clouds looked really beautiful and reminded me of Bombay and how I’d stand in the balcony and look at the clouds come from the sea. These clouds today weren’t just figuratively dark, they were almost black. Literally. So we kept walking because they were far away, somewhere around the horizon. We thought we’d get drenched if we went, so I called up my cousin to ask if it was OK if we came to his place the next day instead. He said he wouldn’t be here the next day so we decided to go anyway, despite the dark clouds. We’d hardly taken a couple of steps and it came down pouring. What looked beautiful suddenly felt even more beautiful. I couldn’t stop laughing. So I ran back to the hostel, slowing down as I did, because I wanted to get wet and feel the rain. I looked up, our college has these huge halogen lamps installed in places, I looked at one of them and saw the rain fall down in the light of the lamp. Felt like eternity. So I came back to the hostel, smiled at the guard sitting there and got to my room. Dried my head with a towel, changed and went out on to the porch on the third floor. Now this was the best part. I was standing there watching the rain, clicking pictures. That’s what I like a lot about the rain, I can be safe inside and watch it come down and not touch me. one of the things that I really want to do is stand in a room made of glass on the terrace of a very tall building. I went to Pankaj’s room who lived on the same floor. Left my phone there and came back to the porch, got Pankaj along as well. As we stood in the porch, watching the rain come down, the wind started blowing in our direction. And the little drops of water, not the big raindrops, but the little ones that could be blown away by the wind started falling on us. That was bliss. It wasn’t rally drenching or making it hard for me to keep my eyes open or having me to wipe my face all the time, but just little droplets of water and it would feel very nice and cool when the wind would blow.

The Narrow Street

I just ventured out today. I missed the only class I had because I didn’t feel like attending the class. I walked out of the college gate. The only thing on my mind was to go about the locality I lived in, sector 62/63 and find out why it was amazing to live here. I remembered being excited about living here because it was close to Delhi. But I never ended up going to Delhi with the frequency I would have expected myself to go there. So I remained here feeling depressed about how going to Delhi could have been much more fun. Then I looked down the road that went right past the gate. It looked as beautiful and clean as the road down India Gate or at Connaught Place. I live next to a very beautiful road.

I continued walking. The trees across the drain always looked dirty with all the dust that had settled on them. Today they looked beautiful. Of course they would look beautiful. I was out to look for beauty. I walked the same beautiful road. I looked up. Through the leaves of the trees I could see the sun. Now that was another wonderful thing I never expected to see here. I kept walking and tried looking at the sun through the leaves.

What came to my mind next was another weird thought out of nowhere. I decided I’d walk up to a fruit seller and ask him the rates of all the fruits on his stall. So I kept walking. I came across a very narrow street that I’d never seen before. It reminded me of the small town that my grandparents used to live in. It got me feeling really humble. I decided to walk in. I walked down the street. Urbanization had changed me so much. I remember being with my cousin once in one of those thin narrow streets, one of his friends showed up on a bike and I thought his friend was cool. I had in front of me a similar scene. There was a little girl, her older brother and a friend who showed up on a bike. The girl’s eyes had the same look of respect for the cousin’s cool friend as I used to. But to me the guy on the bike was someone I wouldn’t trust in the normal world outside the little narrow street.

Urbanization changes us so much. There were hardly a couple of big brand posters in that narrow street. Everybody was humble. The kids were playing; the buffalos were tied right next to the road. Nobody had a problem with that. Whereas outside the street, it would be shocking to see a child right next to a buffalo. The buffalo could hurt the child you see.

Another great thing I felt as I turned back to walk back up the street to come back to the main road was the people who came to the world outside the street to work. They were mostly blue collar workers in the industries around or the rickshaw pullers. For us, outside the street, they represented people who didn’t make it very big or somebody who because of the lack of opportunity couldn’t make something better out of their lives. But to the people inside the street they were fighters, going out into the big, bad, urbanized world to earn their bread. They would come back to the tiny little street every night and tell their families about their encounters in the world. Which their wives and children would tell their friends the next day. And everybody would know.

I walked out of the street. I smiled at every rickshaw puller who asked me if I needed him to drop me somewhere and politely said no. Otherwise I would have just walked by. He’s a fighter in his own little way; from his own little street somewhere in the city. And not just the rickshaw pullers and the workers I saw. I realized how everyone had a story which was very different from our opinion of them. Even the people in the big cars or the ones driving off for a picnic with their families.

And I was almost back in college by now. All that in just half an hour. It felt like an hour if not ages. And the guy I asked, was selling oranges for Rs. 5 per 250 grams and grapes for Rs. 10 per 250 grams.

Paper bags are cool.

Of the many things I realized on my recent trip to the 2 hill stations, Dalhousie and Dharamshala, in Himachal Pradesh recently was that paper bags are cool. For everyone. Shopkeepers, environmentalists, consumers and most importantly nature.

They make paper bags out of, well, paper. And they make paper out of wood which makes it bio degradable. Which supposedly means it will mix with nature in some time and cause no harm to the environment. And not to forget, it’s easier to recycle. So more preferred over polythene bags. And recycling means we don’t have to cut down any more trees any longer (see that keeps the environment cool; literally).

Well the following events made me realise how cool paper bags actually are.

So, I was at a general store purchasing chocolates and biscuits and chocolate biscuits when I saw a girl holding on to a colorful paper bag. It didn’t have a handle like a plastic bag. She was holding on to it like she would hold a baby. I thought that was good because that would actually increase the awareness about the packet she was holding, and at some sub conscious level, not let her take her shopping for granted. And the packet was, as I already mentioned, colorful.

It is good for shopkeepers and manufacturers.

I asked the shopkeeper for a traditional polythene bag. His response to my request wasn’t the politest. He sort of ‘warned’ me to not ask for a polythene bag again. The tone of his voice really frightened me. I started believing either he’d find out if I asked for a polythene and then he’d come and beat me up or the other person who I ask for a polythene bag would beat me up. It puts them all in an unwritten team. They’re all a part of a team that wants to use paper bags. United we stand.

For the manufacturers it offers a great opportunity to advertise themselves. You see, when somebody walks by me with a polythene bag in their hand I don’t care to look down at what’s written on it. But when they’re holding a paper bag close to themselves like a baby (I’m talking about the paper bags without those shoelace kind of handles or cut outs in them so they can be held like a polythene bag; that takes the fun out). So these paper bags which people hold like babies, are a great way of advertising. You see because I don’t look down all the way to their knee level which is where the bag is probably hanging. If you walk by me holding the bag up high I’ll take notice of the brand name on the bag.

And we all know how it helps the environmentalists. It gives them peace of mind.

So it makes the consumers feel good about the stuff they buy, unites the small time shopkeepers, good advertising opportunity for the manufacturers, and peace of mind for the environmentalists and everyone else. And a blessing for Mother Nature.

What more can we ask for?

So governments of various nations, please pass laws that get your people to use paper bags instead of polythene bags.

God save these kids.

Here it goes, something that has been very close to my heart for a very long time. No, the IIT classes haven’t been close to my heart. But the kids who study there have been close to my heart. Well they’re sent there at 15; to live away from their parents. I’m not blaming anybody here; society did that to the kids and everyone who wanted the kids to go and “make their lives worth living”. And the problem starts there.

It gives everyone a high. A make believe situation where the kid suddenly starts to think he/she is meant to be an engineer of the highest order when he/she is selected for one of the so called “prestigious” study centers.

Innocence is lost. Competition begins. Real life – so to say- begins. And that’s when everyone starts believing there isn’t enough for everyone. Even the children who are in their respective homes(I was) and attend coaching classes for their responsible future are made to believe there isn’t enough room for everyone. Because in the end, the kids are ranked.

At 15, we chose what we will supposedly do our entire lives. Once you start on the path of one lifestyle, it’s hard to come out they say. Not for the strong ones. But the weak ones, those who have been brainwashed to an extent they refuse to believe anything besides the fact that they will one day become great engineers and then MBA graduates and earn a lot of money; IT’S BAD. How do we expect 15 year olds to take responsibility? You don’t let them vote, you don’t let them drive, and you don’t let them drink.

What makes you think they are old enough to decide a path for their life?

This will get them a job. They will be working for 40 years in their life. They’ll go to their offices every day, continuously for 40 years. And if they don’t like it and don’t even know they don’t like it, the money in their bank accounts will not make them happy.

OK; all of the above said and done, this isn’t my BIG concern. Well it is, but these kids get to be kids till they’re 15.

What concerns me even more is a newspaper article I read quite some time back. The coaching centers want kids to join them in the 6^th standard itself. So now they want to take 10 year olds and ruin their lives. Congratulations! Add to that a country full of parents who want their kids to be IIT and IIM graduates. And besides that, till you’re 10, you’re never expected to be able to decide what you want from life. In any country at all, in any civilization for that matter. At 10, I didn’t know what the difference between an IIT or an NIT or NIIT is!

You’re a kid. You’ve just reached double digits In terms of existence on the planet. You still cry when u bruise your knee. You don’t even understand why you have a headache, you don’t know what pressure and competition and stress are. You don’t know how studying in school and trying to top in class is ever going to help you in your life. You just live life. You hardly ever think about it. I just hope and pray all the 10 year olds in the country have intelligent parents who understand that.

So now the kids don’t get to decide what they want from life AND they don’t get to live life. Well, fine.As much as I love being an atheist, I’d like to say “God save these kids”.