OK. Enough is enough! I am tired of this shadow fighting. Of late, for the last three-four days, I have started thinking too much. An unusual trait and a sure shot way of getting doomed. I mean, who did ever thought of me using brains? Now I will head directly to the bar and empty a pitcher of beer. I am thirsty.
After someday, mother is coming over. Brother too. I will celebrate the New Year and my birthday with them. It will be a great fun. Though, room mates and friends are a little annoyed that she is coming on 31st December morning. Wild, non-stop drinking parties will be cancelled, they are afraid. They want to be all goody goody in front of her. All will pretend to be apostles of paradise, with a cross on their shoulder. But dare they express their annoyance to me! I will strip them and pour cold water at the middle of the night. Promise. That’s a Christmas resolution.
Huh! They don’t know me. I will reveal to her that I am not the only spoilt brat in the world. I am sponsoring two bottles of Antiquity. Will make them drunk. I don’t get a kick in four-five pegs. I need to drink like a fish. And I know these morons’ capacity. After a peg or two, M will start crying, remembering his past love. S will laugh incessantly because he would suddenly remember how he cheated his tutor and went for an adult movie. Know-all B will become a patient listener to H’s blabbering. And G will start dancing like a zulu.
I swear I will rally all of them in front of Maa.
And would silently plea her to forgive me for starting drinking at the mere age of fourteen.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
thief
it was evident that the guy won't budge. the deal was far too less profitable and sort of undignified too. the man was quoting a price of rs. 500 for the puppy. that was quite unacceptable.
it's true that whatever price he gets would be a neat profit. the dog was only fifteen days with him now. he stole the puppy about thirty kilometers from his place. he took extra care to transport it to the market.
there were several big dogs. all 'foreign'. the big ones are never easy to lure. they don't catch a good price too. and you can't just carry them without anybody noticing.
but one piece of old dirty bone was enough to lure this small ball of furs. it came almost rolling and jumped to catch the bone...straight into his hands. before anybody comprehends, he put the puppy in his shantiniketan-bag and quickly crossed the road and disappeared on to the crowd. the other dogs were still playing with the rag they discovered on the backyard.
it was a perfect operation. a perfect theft. he spend almost a week spotting for the perfect time to steal it. the house owner is a big shot in the locality. the company sends a car to pick him up to his workplace. they have many servants also. one dedicated to care the dogs. that poor guy will be screwed, he thought. but, then...you survive by preying on others isn't it.
when he put the bag and unbuttoned it, he found the puppy sleeping. it was the most beautiful creature he has ever seen in his life. it was not a 'speech' (spitz), he guessed. its muzzle was heavier and the fur had a little hint of brown in it. also, it had clearly a different set of coat coming up. it was far more coarser. yet, it was almost round. he carefully took the puppy in his hand.
it's so soft. it rolled a little bit and opened its eyes. he put it in the bed. the puppy came again in a rolling fashion and licked his hand. it put its left leg again to his palm. he understood it wants a rocking. he took it in his palms.
there was a curve through its muzzle. as if it was smiling. his heart was overflowed with joy. it reminded him the day when he took his child, now dead, in his hands for the first time.
but, it's not good to fall in love with goods of your business. he put the puppy in the floor and poured some water in the bowl. he generally don't wash the bowl for every dog that gets temporary refuge in this thatched house. it's in the same state for the last five years. but, this time he washed it.
he was himself quite surprised. but, then...may be...this is going to catch a good price in the market. he don't have to worry for two months after the deal. he better take extra care. also, the puppy is from a good 'family'. who knows how rich people treat their dogs. must be better than humans. he tied a rope on its neck.
But, at the night, the dog started crying. it was only stopping when he was putting it with him in the bed and hold it against himself. the puppy would sleep immediately.
he let pass two weeks. they would definitely search for the puppy in all the pet-fares on sundays.
and now after fifteen days, he is sitting in the midst of a considerable crowd, with the puppy in his lap. it won't let itself put in the ground. it prefers the warmth of its owner.
so the man was quoting 500. no, the guy won't budge. OK, how about 800.
nope. he protested nonchalantly. quote some respectable price or else go for others, it's not a cross breed, he shrugged.
somebody wanted to check the puppy. he quickly held it out and showed him. when the prospective customer demanded to take check it himself, he quickly put it again in his lap. what is there to check, can't you see it's a good breed?
what breed is this? somebody asked. hound, he said. but hounds don't have fur. "it's a foreign hound," he proudly proclaimed.
how much you expect for this?
"fifteen thousand". it's a rule in these fairs to reduce price by nine-tenth. he expects a little more than two thousand for this one.
are you daydreaming man? tell me the right price. what about 1000?
you are wasting my time sir. you are not fit for it.
than finally, after many rejections, somebody quoted two thousand five hundred. more than what he expected. he thought for a moment. actually pondered a lot. he put the puppy in the ground. he stood in front of it turning his back to it. he pretended as if sitting for a long time has frozen his legs. he moved a little bit forward. now the puppy was pulling his lungi back. it's a great fun for the puppy to bite the lungi and skid through when its owner walks. the man would pretend to beat him and it would growl...threatening to bite. the game would continue for awhile before he rewards it with a pat or two on the head.
the man turned over, took the puppy again in his lap and started to pack his bag.
so how much you are giving it for? the customer inquired.
no, you are not able to pay for it. i have a better customer in mind.
the man boarded a bus. headed directly towards the house he took the puppy from.
he waited for sometime to ensure nobody is looking. he then slipped the puppy again behind the iron gate. it must have realised it's the last they see each other. it put out a mild sound. the man wiped his eyes and quickly crossed the road.
it's true that whatever price he gets would be a neat profit. the dog was only fifteen days with him now. he stole the puppy about thirty kilometers from his place. he took extra care to transport it to the market.
there were several big dogs. all 'foreign'. the big ones are never easy to lure. they don't catch a good price too. and you can't just carry them without anybody noticing.
but one piece of old dirty bone was enough to lure this small ball of furs. it came almost rolling and jumped to catch the bone...straight into his hands. before anybody comprehends, he put the puppy in his shantiniketan-bag and quickly crossed the road and disappeared on to the crowd. the other dogs were still playing with the rag they discovered on the backyard.
it was a perfect operation. a perfect theft. he spend almost a week spotting for the perfect time to steal it. the house owner is a big shot in the locality. the company sends a car to pick him up to his workplace. they have many servants also. one dedicated to care the dogs. that poor guy will be screwed, he thought. but, then...you survive by preying on others isn't it.
when he put the bag and unbuttoned it, he found the puppy sleeping. it was the most beautiful creature he has ever seen in his life. it was not a 'speech' (spitz), he guessed. its muzzle was heavier and the fur had a little hint of brown in it. also, it had clearly a different set of coat coming up. it was far more coarser. yet, it was almost round. he carefully took the puppy in his hand.
it's so soft. it rolled a little bit and opened its eyes. he put it in the bed. the puppy came again in a rolling fashion and licked his hand. it put its left leg again to his palm. he understood it wants a rocking. he took it in his palms.
there was a curve through its muzzle. as if it was smiling. his heart was overflowed with joy. it reminded him the day when he took his child, now dead, in his hands for the first time.
but, it's not good to fall in love with goods of your business. he put the puppy in the floor and poured some water in the bowl. he generally don't wash the bowl for every dog that gets temporary refuge in this thatched house. it's in the same state for the last five years. but, this time he washed it.
he was himself quite surprised. but, then...may be...this is going to catch a good price in the market. he don't have to worry for two months after the deal. he better take extra care. also, the puppy is from a good 'family'. who knows how rich people treat their dogs. must be better than humans. he tied a rope on its neck.
But, at the night, the dog started crying. it was only stopping when he was putting it with him in the bed and hold it against himself. the puppy would sleep immediately.
he let pass two weeks. they would definitely search for the puppy in all the pet-fares on sundays.
and now after fifteen days, he is sitting in the midst of a considerable crowd, with the puppy in his lap. it won't let itself put in the ground. it prefers the warmth of its owner.
so the man was quoting 500. no, the guy won't budge. OK, how about 800.
nope. he protested nonchalantly. quote some respectable price or else go for others, it's not a cross breed, he shrugged.
somebody wanted to check the puppy. he quickly held it out and showed him. when the prospective customer demanded to take check it himself, he quickly put it again in his lap. what is there to check, can't you see it's a good breed?
what breed is this? somebody asked. hound, he said. but hounds don't have fur. "it's a foreign hound," he proudly proclaimed.
how much you expect for this?
"fifteen thousand". it's a rule in these fairs to reduce price by nine-tenth. he expects a little more than two thousand for this one.
are you daydreaming man? tell me the right price. what about 1000?
you are wasting my time sir. you are not fit for it.
than finally, after many rejections, somebody quoted two thousand five hundred. more than what he expected. he thought for a moment. actually pondered a lot. he put the puppy in the ground. he stood in front of it turning his back to it. he pretended as if sitting for a long time has frozen his legs. he moved a little bit forward. now the puppy was pulling his lungi back. it's a great fun for the puppy to bite the lungi and skid through when its owner walks. the man would pretend to beat him and it would growl...threatening to bite. the game would continue for awhile before he rewards it with a pat or two on the head.
the man turned over, took the puppy again in his lap and started to pack his bag.
so how much you are giving it for? the customer inquired.
no, you are not able to pay for it. i have a better customer in mind.
the man boarded a bus. headed directly towards the house he took the puppy from.
he waited for sometime to ensure nobody is looking. he then slipped the puppy again behind the iron gate. it must have realised it's the last they see each other. it put out a mild sound. the man wiped his eyes and quickly crossed the road.
Friday, December 08, 2006
profile photo
the photo in profile is one of my favourites clicked by me when i was working in Shillong, Meghalaya. a dreamland to be sure.
mothers there carry their children in this manner. doctors argue that this way is bad for the child as he may develop neck-stiffness when he grows up. but no instance as such has been found so far.
meghalaya is a matrilineal society where mothers had to take care of their children as well as manage for the livelihood of the family, generally. men are...well, anybody's guess. an ideal society for me.
clicked with pentax 50 mm lens, app: 11, shutter speed: 125
click to enlarge.
mothers there carry their children in this manner. doctors argue that this way is bad for the child as he may develop neck-stiffness when he grows up. but no instance as such has been found so far.
meghalaya is a matrilineal society where mothers had to take care of their children as well as manage for the livelihood of the family, generally. men are...well, anybody's guess. an ideal society for me.
clicked with pentax 50 mm lens, app: 11, shutter speed: 125
click to enlarge.
Friday, December 01, 2006
baby-shitting
I knew that handling a baby can be difficult. My favourite writer Shibram had written long time back about it in his shishu sikkhar porinam. His conclusion was “every child is his father’s elder brother”.
But he handled a boy of five. Who was well equipped with vocabulary and made his tutor’s life miserable by questions. Whereas, I was given the duty of handling my friend’s fourteen-month-old for half-an-hour. My longest half hour in life. After going through the experience I concluded that every child is his father’s elder brother’s tormentor.
This time when I went to Calcutta, I visited Paul’s place. We were meeting after three years. I was quite shocked to find the changes in Paul. Within this small period of three years, not only he had married and got a certificate of love, but I was astonished that his whole outlook towards the world has changed. He used to be a jolly, good for nothing happy-go-lucky person like me. We used to fall in love at the same time with the same lady and had prolonged discussion, even for days, as to who would propose her.
But that’s history now. Paul is now not even a shadow of what he was. He now talks about life insurance policies and retirement plans. Life fucks all, they say.
I am digressing.
Mother always says there is nothing like a baby in this world. Though I stay away from babies and vermin, I agreed to help Paul when he asked me to take care of his baby for ten minutes. He had to go for an urgent work and the mother was yet to come from the office.
I spread my arms to the baby. He knew this is an open invitation for a baby’s evening out. He said, “goo goo goo.” Paul, who was visibly happy that his son was trusting me extended the custody period and said he will be back soon, after half-an-hour. He stashed a dozen pants for the baby and advised me to carry it in a disinfected bag. My pocket might be infected, he was worried. When I looked at him suspiciously as why he is giving me to carry a whole baby shop, he smiled mysteriously, “you will soon realize”.
I realized it soon after I took the baby out. Just when I opened the gate, he tried to jump out, almost as if he would run to the field to play football with the other senior brats, “goo goo gooooo,” he exclaimed and wetted his pant and my shirt.
I had no idea that changing a pant can be so troublesome. First you have to make the baby sit in a higher place than the ground level, a bench being the ideal. Then, supporting him with one hand you have to pull out the wet thingy. You lift the baby a little and slowly pull out the pant with the other hand. You should be extra careful, leaning on to you, the baby should not test the strength of his teeth. It hurts really bad! And they keep on pressing harder unless they are sure they have found a new weapon effective enough to protest the injustice of the world.
Now, after you are done with stripping the baby, your next task is to dress him again. The most difficult job in the world. I took a while to find out which part should come in front and which one is meant for hiding the arse part. After some research I found out that you can make it wear anyway you wish, because they are meant to be like that. I tried to put one of those panties to him. The baby, who was happy and content to be naked, protested a lot when I tried to make him civilized. “goo goo goo,” he went on complaining. Kicked me with all his might and threatened to fall down from the place he was seating. Making me cancelling my plans one after another. Frustrated, I laid him down on the floor and tucked him under my thighs and made prudent use with my hands, now that both were freed. He was not volunteering to put his leg onto one of the hole assigned, and was very displeased by this inhuman treatment. “goo goo goo,” he was throwing his hands and legs at every possible direction. But I was desperate, the more he was trying to free him up, the harder I was putting the squeeze on him. We continued this until he was not moving at all and completely surrendered him to my whims and fancies.
With some luck, I managed to dress him. Only to discover later that I put it all wrong. The leg hole was now adoring his trunk. His tiny winy thingy was now hanging from the other end. And neither of us was ashamed of it.
He was dazed by the effort and was not moving much. But soon recovered and regained his stature. We came near a pond. Some ducklings were happily swimming there. I pointed out to him, “look look.”
He again tried to jump from my lap to chase them, “goo goo goo…” he was excited, “gooo gooo gooo,” he was now jumping in my lap, kicking me. “gooooooo…” he was overexcited and lo…I felt some hot water running through me and I was not amazed to discover the source.
I had to again repeat the process. Only this time I made a buffer of the remaining pants between him and me. I successful stuffed his mouth with some of his own wearables. I could hear he was grumbling, only timidly. “go go go”
Soon I realized his only aim in life is to discover the nature and its wonderful creatures and get excited and wet his pant. Having come to the conclusion that to save yourself bathing naturally, you should not excite the baby, I turned his face towards me to discourage him from all the beautiful things in life. Whenever he was trying to turn his head, I was forcefully stabilizing it towards me. “goo goo goo,” he was annoyed.
Soon that pesky lout had his share of revenge. Contrary to my belief, and much to my surprise, he was still getting excited looking at my God’s pity face. Soon I realized why.
He snatched my glasses and started shaking it with all his might. “goo goo goo,” he challenged me with his war cry. It was a sort of blackmail. Allow me to do whatever I want to do and save your glasses. But he never gave me the chance for a dialogue. Before I could get hold of my specs he thrashed it on the ground. Smashing the glasses and breaking the frame. That delicate frame had lightened my pocket by 2k just a week before. I was shell-shocked. Now that was a war! I realized that I have to take some hard stand as adopted by President of America, my idol, George Bush. I geared myself up for another ‘war on terror’ and decided to punish this terrorist. I took out the bottle of whiskey I always carry with me for self defence and defiance. I poured one small peg, raw, through his throat.
After some initial protests and grimaces, goo goo goooo gooooo gooolmulgoogoogupgupgoolgoolgulp he fell asleep. Before that he again wet his pant. But this time, it was not a difficult task to change it. I was proud of my baby handling. I am a great nanny, I patted myself on my head.
I handed over the sleeping baby to his parents. He looked so serene. Even my friend’s insistence to stay could not hold me back.
At about nine-o-clock, Paul called up. He was worried that his baby was still sleeping. He was enquiring whether I noticed some abnormality and how was my experience with the baby. I said I loved him and looking forward to meet him again.
At about eleven he called up again. He was howling. The baby was still sleeping and was referred to a hospital by a pediatrician for this abnormally long slumber. I feigned that I don’t know anything and switched off my mobile.
I took an early morning flight to Bangalore next day and the first thing I did after landing here was to change my mobile number. It’s three months now and I don’t know what happened to the baby.
I am sure he waked up after sometime and again wetted his pant, but in the meantime if you readers find Paul, please don’t tell him what happened really. Please, please, don’t stab me at my back. I expect this much of loyalty from you.
Especially when you know that my ‘war on terror’ was just and in self-defense.
But he handled a boy of five. Who was well equipped with vocabulary and made his tutor’s life miserable by questions. Whereas, I was given the duty of handling my friend’s fourteen-month-old for half-an-hour. My longest half hour in life. After going through the experience I concluded that every child is his father’s elder brother’s tormentor.
This time when I went to Calcutta, I visited Paul’s place. We were meeting after three years. I was quite shocked to find the changes in Paul. Within this small period of three years, not only he had married and got a certificate of love, but I was astonished that his whole outlook towards the world has changed. He used to be a jolly, good for nothing happy-go-lucky person like me. We used to fall in love at the same time with the same lady and had prolonged discussion, even for days, as to who would propose her.
But that’s history now. Paul is now not even a shadow of what he was. He now talks about life insurance policies and retirement plans. Life fucks all, they say.
I am digressing.
Mother always says there is nothing like a baby in this world. Though I stay away from babies and vermin, I agreed to help Paul when he asked me to take care of his baby for ten minutes. He had to go for an urgent work and the mother was yet to come from the office.
I spread my arms to the baby. He knew this is an open invitation for a baby’s evening out. He said, “goo goo goo.” Paul, who was visibly happy that his son was trusting me extended the custody period and said he will be back soon, after half-an-hour. He stashed a dozen pants for the baby and advised me to carry it in a disinfected bag. My pocket might be infected, he was worried. When I looked at him suspiciously as why he is giving me to carry a whole baby shop, he smiled mysteriously, “you will soon realize”.
I realized it soon after I took the baby out. Just when I opened the gate, he tried to jump out, almost as if he would run to the field to play football with the other senior brats, “goo goo gooooo,” he exclaimed and wetted his pant and my shirt.
I had no idea that changing a pant can be so troublesome. First you have to make the baby sit in a higher place than the ground level, a bench being the ideal. Then, supporting him with one hand you have to pull out the wet thingy. You lift the baby a little and slowly pull out the pant with the other hand. You should be extra careful, leaning on to you, the baby should not test the strength of his teeth. It hurts really bad! And they keep on pressing harder unless they are sure they have found a new weapon effective enough to protest the injustice of the world.
Now, after you are done with stripping the baby, your next task is to dress him again. The most difficult job in the world. I took a while to find out which part should come in front and which one is meant for hiding the arse part. After some research I found out that you can make it wear anyway you wish, because they are meant to be like that. I tried to put one of those panties to him. The baby, who was happy and content to be naked, protested a lot when I tried to make him civilized. “goo goo goo,” he went on complaining. Kicked me with all his might and threatened to fall down from the place he was seating. Making me cancelling my plans one after another. Frustrated, I laid him down on the floor and tucked him under my thighs and made prudent use with my hands, now that both were freed. He was not volunteering to put his leg onto one of the hole assigned, and was very displeased by this inhuman treatment. “goo goo goo,” he was throwing his hands and legs at every possible direction. But I was desperate, the more he was trying to free him up, the harder I was putting the squeeze on him. We continued this until he was not moving at all and completely surrendered him to my whims and fancies.
With some luck, I managed to dress him. Only to discover later that I put it all wrong. The leg hole was now adoring his trunk. His tiny winy thingy was now hanging from the other end. And neither of us was ashamed of it.
He was dazed by the effort and was not moving much. But soon recovered and regained his stature. We came near a pond. Some ducklings were happily swimming there. I pointed out to him, “look look.”
He again tried to jump from my lap to chase them, “goo goo goo…” he was excited, “gooo gooo gooo,” he was now jumping in my lap, kicking me. “gooooooo…” he was overexcited and lo…I felt some hot water running through me and I was not amazed to discover the source.
I had to again repeat the process. Only this time I made a buffer of the remaining pants between him and me. I successful stuffed his mouth with some of his own wearables. I could hear he was grumbling, only timidly. “go go go”
Soon I realized his only aim in life is to discover the nature and its wonderful creatures and get excited and wet his pant. Having come to the conclusion that to save yourself bathing naturally, you should not excite the baby, I turned his face towards me to discourage him from all the beautiful things in life. Whenever he was trying to turn his head, I was forcefully stabilizing it towards me. “goo goo goo,” he was annoyed.
Soon that pesky lout had his share of revenge. Contrary to my belief, and much to my surprise, he was still getting excited looking at my God’s pity face. Soon I realized why.
He snatched my glasses and started shaking it with all his might. “goo goo goo,” he challenged me with his war cry. It was a sort of blackmail. Allow me to do whatever I want to do and save your glasses. But he never gave me the chance for a dialogue. Before I could get hold of my specs he thrashed it on the ground. Smashing the glasses and breaking the frame. That delicate frame had lightened my pocket by 2k just a week before. I was shell-shocked. Now that was a war! I realized that I have to take some hard stand as adopted by President of America, my idol, George Bush. I geared myself up for another ‘war on terror’ and decided to punish this terrorist. I took out the bottle of whiskey I always carry with me for self defence and defiance. I poured one small peg, raw, through his throat.
After some initial protests and grimaces, goo goo goooo gooooo gooolmulgoogoogupgupgoolgoolgulp he fell asleep. Before that he again wet his pant. But this time, it was not a difficult task to change it. I was proud of my baby handling. I am a great nanny, I patted myself on my head.
I handed over the sleeping baby to his parents. He looked so serene. Even my friend’s insistence to stay could not hold me back.
At about nine-o-clock, Paul called up. He was worried that his baby was still sleeping. He was enquiring whether I noticed some abnormality and how was my experience with the baby. I said I loved him and looking forward to meet him again.
At about eleven he called up again. He was howling. The baby was still sleeping and was referred to a hospital by a pediatrician for this abnormally long slumber. I feigned that I don’t know anything and switched off my mobile.
I took an early morning flight to Bangalore next day and the first thing I did after landing here was to change my mobile number. It’s three months now and I don’t know what happened to the baby.
I am sure he waked up after sometime and again wetted his pant, but in the meantime if you readers find Paul, please don’t tell him what happened really. Please, please, don’t stab me at my back. I expect this much of loyalty from you.
Especially when you know that my ‘war on terror’ was just and in self-defense.
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