Wednesday, 29 December 2010

Red and White

Photo courtesy: CEPT Website
Or, ‘The Internet’- according to the wise men/women

There is a rumor at times that Santa dresses a combination of red and white because of Coke’s influence in the history. It is an American phenomenon, otherwise Santa used to be green and white. Ask one of my color challenged friend, who lives in America, and with whom I used to share the same green lawns, note green, and do idle nothing but gaze at the stars. This portion of South Lawns has a nice gentle slope to lay on one’s back. The lawn has a small, and only one inside the lawn, a small eight foot tree. Owl has big eyes, and when they gaze they really gaze. It was year 1998. We then felt, Christmas goes well with the soft chill of the city. This tree was frequently used as Christmas tree.

It was by sheer coincidence that I walked past the same lawns recently on the evening of 25th December 2010. And, looking at the small area on the green lawns around the tree, it took me no time in recollecting a conversation I had a few days back, before christmas, with one of the cultural secretaries, a student of the place. He mentioned he is looking for a good Christmas party this year. He also has had ideas not only for a Santa but a Banta as well. Now, walking past the lawns I noted bursted remnants of red and white balloons suspended to the delicate branches of the delicate tree, and some remnants and discarded white paper plates around. The red and white combination was left to the next agency, the puens and the safaiwalas. In fact, in that distinguishable waste, I also saw a Classic Milds packet too, not an American product at all.  

It looked like the party went well with all jubiliancy.
“So this is Christmas…”,

Puen = n. Handman
Safaiwala = n. Cleaner

Sunday, 26 December 2010

Race to Liberty

India is a phunny country, some like to call it absurd too, I say the same too, sometimes. Its communal places, like hospitals and schools have alertness and educational messages, mostly on walls, and sometimes on desktop screens. These are one liners usually. Such as-

"Nobody will believe in you unless you believe in yourself"
- Liberace

Now, who the hell is Liberace?


Saturday, 25 December 2010

Morning sun, dew and games for the handicapped

Morning orange sun feels nice on the face. The sun is not strong, and one can feel the morning dew. This is one of the common mornings in Bodakdev of Ahmedabad. Bend is happy to see kids being loaded into the back of a tempo. They are to be transported to the play grounds at Maninagar of Ahmedabad. He is told, recently made, the play facilities are well equipped world class. One staff tells these kids are being transported to prepare for the handicapped games. The P.T. teacher dressed in white pants and white shirt is ensuring each one is tightly fitted on the back of the three-wheeler. He wants to ensure their safety on the unsafe roads of Amdawad city.

In the same compound, Banjo and some left out kids are busy in their own world. They are happy having Banjo fetch the ball thrown long-distance every time, which the dog when he brings it back drops to pant his tongue out.

Bend doesn’t belongs to the happy lot, for he notes the dismal infrastructure, slowness, condition of the tempo, frowning teacher blowing whistle all the time. He sees a team that will perform yet underperform at another handicapped games arrangement that exist in a big nation; a country that houses one fifth of the world’s population. Inside the country the differently-abled will perform, internationally not to be seen.

Or, the reason for Bends disillusionment with this disabled arrangement could be something else. It could be his upbringing, living, and the way he perceives things presently. The sun and the dew are stronger, they sooth him- also, the panting dog.

Monday, 20 December 2010

Liberty downer

I don't understand this part of the doctrine of democracy. Why do some really want liberty downest to the lowest level of an individual, like, a man's? I suggest, we bring it downer; say, to a dog's level.

Thursday, 16 December 2010

Transportation modes available to Banjo

In Ahmedabad, year 2010, mass public transport vehicles such as the public bus, known as AMTS, is a complete no for Banjo. His presence may create panic and scare otherwise ordinary people traveling by the bus. He is already a perceived danger when he walks the streets- a fifteen month old Labrador pet. It is highly likely that the kind-man (man-kind) may protest his presence in the bus too. Well, things are not that bad, for Banjo is among the lucky few of his kinds around. He has other personal modes of transport available too, although walking is his favorite.

Let me tell you, he is crazy about the Bullet, a heavy motorcycle which his master Bend owns. Since a few decades, the production of this R(G)oyal Bullet has had ceased in Royal England as old generation bikes have given way to the new. And, recently, these Bullet bikes have found a new immense popularity in India with a certain youth – the youth which can afford it. The Bullet which never ditches you, has style, is louder in loud streets, and is relatively a comfortabler and an exciting ride. Banjo would always insist for a ride.

Car falls later in Banjo’s preference list. Bend usually drives it with the windows up, closed, and perhaps Banjo doesn’t likes its secure cut off air with the outside world. There is a risk that Banjo may jump out of the window in excitement of the smells outside or eye contact with the other dogs on the street. Inside is a micro-climate envelope, where this contact, in particular smell contact, is broken. Climate changed, just images the dog may be observing. It gets more boring in winters, for in summers the dog at least has the air conditioner to eat up? Bend learns, you rob a dog of his smell, you rob him of everything. On longer drives on highways, country sides, Banjo prefers to curl himself for a comfortable doze in the car. It is beautiful when the sun shines through the glass and the living creature is sleeping quiet.

Halfway during one seemingly long morning walk with Banjo, one day, Bend chose to return home in an auto-rickshaw. The auto-rickshaw driver was surprised with Bend’s question if he wouldn’t mind a dog. The poor looking wrinkle faced man laughed on an unusual question. He was amused to see two smart chaps early in the morning, requesting a paid ride. Bend thought Banjo would love auto-rickshaw too because he himself loves the sound and air of it. He was keen to take a note of Banjo’s reactions. Rather, the unconcerned dog preferred to bark at the street dogs he came across, and aroused their curiosity in return too. Banjo didn’t find anything special in the alternative transport form, except for the driver, who perhaps just loved another small excitement in his life, otherwise a tough day, which has become a regular, just about to begin.