The lonely sawaari!

His face wore a calm smile. A smile of contentment. 

"He must have gotten a passenger wanting to go to a pretty faraway place", I thought to myself. I then noticed that the back seat of the auto rickshaw was empty. 

I looked again at the driver. The calm smile still rested on his face.

Observing his smile unconsciously gave birth to one of my own. And then a strange thought appeared.

What if the driver was an introvert?!

I got interested.

If he was an introverted driver, which would he prefer - a lonely ride that gladdened his heart or a shared journey with a stranger that gladdened his stomach?!

Would he be more delighted if a single passenger boarded his auto rickshaw than he would be with a couple or a family?! 

Would he set the volume of the speakers in his auto rickshaw to the lowest in order to avoid attention in traffic?!

How willing would he be to honk his horn?!

Would he prefer the corner spot in an auto stand?! Would he even prefer being a part of an auto stand?!

How difficult would it be for him to ask a pedestrian if he/she wanted a ride?!

Would he even like his auto rickshaw being a bright yellow shade?!

I looked at the driver again. I wanted to board his auto rickshaw and have a hearty conversation. But I could not.

The introvert in me did not allow it.

But having typed this post now, I think - Should I blame the introvert for having missed a great conversation with an interesting man or should I thank the introvert for having been the cause of these words?!

I strangely feel that the auto rickshaw driver would hold an answer.

The hero a nation needs..

Last week, one of my friends was speaking to me about the current political scenario in India. I, not being a person who actively follows politics, was unable to contribute anything significantly to his thoughts. And hence I did that thing which I love doing the most in a conversation - I listened.

There were many new things I learned that evening from my friend. But one thing that lingered on my mind long after the conversation ended was my friend's mention of the growing dissatisfaction among Indians over various national affairs. He had ended the topic saying, "India badly needs an uniting factor.. An extremely positive one!"  

I let my mind work upon that remark of my friend's and in my most idle moment, it threw out an answer.
Sachin Tendulkar.
I couldn't help smiling.

I imagined how things would change if Sachin returned to International cricket. 
I, for one, would start following cricket again. Also, I felt that the collective mood of the nation would be uplifted. 
Like it had happened with the audience walking out of an M.G.R. movie. Like it happens with an audience walking out of a Rajinikanth movie. 
We do not walk into a Rajini movie expecting an artwork that leaves our hearts heavy and our minds intellectualized. We walk into a Rajini movie expecting to be consoled that good will always triumph over evil in this world governed by chaos. We walk into a Rajini movie just to be made aware that despite all the Panama Papers, despite all the Zika viruses, despite all the incredible advertisements being telecasted on Tamil television channels in relation to the 2016 Tamil Nadu Assembly elections, Rajini exists. We walk into a Rajini movie simply because we do not have an alternative to prove us the existence of God. 
All the above could be said of a Sachin's innings as well.
This is not to say that a Virat Kohli or a M.S.Dhoni cannot unite the nation. But there always exists a difference between superheroes and demigods. There always exists a difference between a cheer for a hero's victory and a tear for a hero's victory. 

I continued imagining how things would change if Sachin returned to International cricket.
I also realized that my imagination could escape its expiry only till it remained inside my head. Interestingly, at the same moment of the realization, something else hit me.
Sachin: A Billion Dreams.
I couldn't help smiling.
If the little great man could bring together a nation with just one of his straight drives, why couldn't the same or even something more be achieved with a collection of his innings accompanied by A.R.Rahman's score?!
I stopped my thought process and watched the teaser for the nth time. 
I met my friend the next day and told him, "The uniting factor India needs is right around the corner".

A drop of life

I was travelling with my brother to my office the other day. Ahead of us, honking its way slowly through the traffic, was moving a water tanker. Water was dripping from a pipe hanging at its rear end. The dripping water had left a squiggly trail of the water tanker's path. "Possibly the worst escape vehicle after committing a crime!" I thought to myself. 
Some time later, as I was filling a cup of water in the pantry at my office, I remembered a story I had heard from my brother a week ago.
It had been about a young African girl of fifteen. She had belonged to a region of Africa where water is so scarce that bath is a luxury and thirst is a crime. The daily supply of water in the girl's home had been one bucketful, which the girl had had to fetch from a small water reservoir situated a-two-hour-long-walk away from her home. One day, the girl who had left her home in the morning to fetch water had not returned. By evening, the girl's family had set out in search of her and at some distance from the water reservoir, they had found her body hanging from a tree. After bringing the girl's body down from the tree, her family had also found something else a few hundred meters from the tree. It had been the girl's broken bucket.
After I remembered the story, I could not bring about myself to drink the cup of water I had filled. I kept staring at it for some time thinking about the water tanker I had seen in the morning. I could hear the water drops dripping from the pipe at the tanker's rear end. 
I then slowly lifted the cup of water to my mouth and drank water from it. As the cup turned empty, tears rolled down my cheeks.

He, she and their love stories..

He loved walking with her and so did she
They made up an odd pair but he never minded
And neither did she
To him, she was the most beautiful woman
To her, he was the second most handsome of all men
In many of their walks, she was the one who spoke
He loved listening more than liberating his thoughts
And so he listened
To each and every word, to each and every breath, to each and every chuckle of hers
He listened so attentively because it reminded him of his love
She also loved speaking to him
For each and every reaction of his to the words she spoke
Reminded her of her love
The love she had lost long ago to life..

In many of their walks, she was the one who spoke
And more often than not, she spoke about her love story
She loved speaking about it
For it gave her a chance to relive the love she had lost
He loved listening to it
For it gave him a chance to compare his love with her love
And relive his love as well
His was as lost a cause as her..

Their walk today was an extra special one
It was his birthday
"What do you want to listen to today?!" she asked him
He thought for some time, searching his memory for the story he wanted to rehear
"Tell me about the time you fought with your love for wanting a girl child" he finally said
She began the story with a smile and ended it with a tear
"I always wanted a boy because I wanted another him" she broke down
Grabbing her hand, he also shed a tear
She asked him the reason with her eyes
"I also said something similar to my girl.
I told her I wanted a girl child after our marriage because I wanted another her." he explained
She chuckled and patted his shoulder
They walked hand in hand, sheltered by the sky, in silence
"Am I as handsome as him?!" he asked her slowly and yearningly
She took a close look at him
"Not as much but close enough" and she winked
He had known the answer pretty well and he decided not to encourage her taunt
"Was your girl as pretty as me?!" she continued
"You have no idea!" he quickly responded
Her face shrunk as he faked a triumphant grin
"Why did you have to let her go?" she asked him, grabbing his hand firmer
He remained silent
"I did not." he mouthed his thoughts 
"She left me, yes, but I still have not let her go" 
They walked hand in hand casting shadows of love
The sun and the moon, the plant and the fruit, the God and the man
They walked hand in hand - the mother and the son
She reminded him of the love he had lost
He reminded her of the love she had lost
They identified themselves in each other's love stories
They identified each other in their own love stories
He loved walking with her and so did she
They made up an odd pair but he never minded
And neither did she...

Let's talk about Arjun's death..

His name was Arjun. But it could have been any other random Hindu name starting with the letter 'A'. His parents had had only that constraint in their mind while naming him. Arjun was not special or talented in any way but it never stopped his parents from loving him excessively. There could have been the possibility of prejudice if Arjun had had a sibling. But we would never know since Arjun was a single child. Owing to which, losing their only child to suicide was more than what Arjun's parents could take in.
Was Arjun's death really a suicide?!
Let's look at the facts. 
Arjun's corpse had been lying with the skull cracked open behind 'B' block, Royal Apartments, 5th Cross Street - the flat in which Arjun's family resided. There was Mrs. Gupta - the sole witness - who had seen Arjun falling from the terrace. (Poor Mrs. Gupta. She had been sitting in her balcony playing with her kitten when something big had suddenly passed her balcony from the terrace. She had quickly peeked out of her balcony only to see Arjun's body crashing on the ground and his blood bursting out. Out of her shock, Mrs. Gupta had dropped her kitten which had landed safely on the ground and had climbed up the stairs back to her). There was Arjun's college friend's statement that the previous day, the girl with whom Arjun had been in a romantic relationship for 3 years - Nasreen - had told Arjun that her father had learned about their relationship and had outright rejected the thought of his daughter marrying a Hindu boy. (Poor Nasreen. She had pleaded her father not to be like a 1980's Tamil romantic film villain but it had only made things worse). There was also Nasreen's tear-filled story of how much she and Arjun had loved each other in the past 3 years. (Poor Arjun's mom. Listening to Nasreen speak about Arjun had made her realize how little she had known about Arjun).
And hence it was concluded - Arjun, unable to cope with the sadness of his failed romance had committed suicide by jumping off the terrace.
The records at A123 police station also said the same. 
Incidentally, 3 days later, a complaint was lodged at A124 police station by Mr. Samuel. Cash and jewelry worth 50 lakhs had been robbed from his house sometime during the previous week he and his family had went on a tour to North India. Mr. Samuel had initially gone to A123 police station to lodge the complaint as it was the closest to his house. But he had learned from the Sub-Inspector there that the jurisdiction of A123 police station extended only till 5th Cross Street and right from 6th Cross Street - the street to which Mr.Samuel's house belonged - all areas fell under the jurisdiction of A124 police station. And hence the complaint was lodged at A124 police station. The investigation about the robbery went on for a few weeks after which the police gave up on the case owing to lack of substantial findings. 
About a year later, the 2 robbers who had planned and executed the robbery at Mr. Samuel's house died in a stampede at the holy shrine they had gone to wash themselves off their sins. With their deaths, they had also carried out of the world a secret only they knew.
After their robbery at Mr.Samuel's house, the robbers had decided to escape via the terrace. They had jumped from one terrace to another and had landed on the terrace of the 'B' block of Royal Apartments. It was there that they had faced Arjun. Arjun had secretly sneaked out of his house and had reached the terrace to cry his heart out. He had been standing at a corner, letting his tears fall down to the earth when he had suddenly noticed 2 masked men jumping on his terrace. Startled, he had taken a misstep and Arjun being 6 feet tall (2.5 feet taller than the terrace wall), he had toppled over and had fallen down to his death. 
And so had transformed an accident into a suicide.
Now having known all sides of the story unlike Arjun's parents or Nasreen or the police at A123 police station, who/what do you think was the cause of Arjun's death?
The robbers? The terrace wall of insufficient height? Nasreen's father? All the buildings of 5th Cross Street and 6th Cross Street which were of the same height and hence facilitated the path of the robbers from the terrace of Mr.Samuel's house to the terrace of Arjun's flat? Arjun's body and limbs not being as flexible as Mrs.Gupta's cat?
But a more important question is this - Having learnt that Arjun's death was not a suicide but an accident, would you let Arjun's parents know about it? Would it make Arjun's mom and dad feel better to know that Arjun had not died for love but instead had lost his life by a freak accident?
I don't think so. What do you say?!

Evolution

I was in the middle of a client call in a conference room at my office.

The client was explaining about a particular data table my team had wanted clarification upon. As I was trying to understand the way the calculation of a field in the table had been made, I suddenly felt as if a huge hand had grabbed my shirt collar and I was being pulled through one time hole after the other until I was thrown down, landing on my face, beside a stone-age man (who for some reason, looked very similar to me) waiting to hunt. I looked at him and he looked at me. But not sparing me attention for more than a second, he started running towards his food which, at his sight, started running away from him. Before he could grab his food, blackness hit me and I was grabbed again and thrown this time beside the same stone-age man in his cave. He was fast asleep with a huge smile spread across his face. Before I could finish observing the walls of the cave, blackness hit me again, a hand grabbed me again and threw me back into my office conference room.

The explanation about the calculation of the field was still underway.

Data Analysis! Stone-age man! A hunt! A cave! Back to data analysis!

It was utter chaos. 

Then, slowly, it began making sense.

When man started his life on this planet, what did he really care about?!

Food. Shelter.

As the most dominant species breathing on this planet now, what do we really care about?!

Money. Respect. Love. A few other perishable items.

How drastically have we then evolved from a man requiring only food and shelter to a man who is a part of a society which sees a point in having numerous fields of work which determine the respect and money and other perishable items?!

From being alert to the movement of a wild animal to being alert to the fall and rise of the stock market, from being naked with nature to revering silk and platinum, from not knowing that communication could occur to sending out a voice mail and typing down abstract poems  – How dumbfounding a change?!

To realize that we created civilizations, we created languages, we created religions, we created money, we created marriages, we created jobs and to realize that most of our problems today revolve around these creations of ours – Don’t you wonder if the human species is a masochistic one?

As these thoughts started settling down in my head, the explanation about the calculation of the field came to an end.

There was a pause from the client’s side which after a few seconds, turned into awkward silence. My team leader quickly pressed the ‘Mute’ button in the Polycom conference phone and shouted, “Arey.. Reply if you have understood the calculation or ask the next question!”

I nodded and released the ‘Mute’ button.

“What do you actually think about our evolution as a species?” I wanted to ask.

“Thank you so much for that explanation.. Now we see why the issues in the data…” I started speaking.

I had evolved too much for life and truth.

The once-in-4-years Neelakurinji...

I started the day wondering about flowers that bloom once in 4 years. I then remembered about the Neelakurinji flowers that bloom once in 12 years. 
As the garden in my mind started witnessing the blooming of the purplish blue flowers, I remembered that a sister of one of my schoolmates celebrated her birthday today. 
Wasn't she too a sort of Neelakurinji?!
I then pondered over the difficulties that would be faced by such people blooming-once-in-4-years and my thoughts shifted to an article I had read sometime back. 
It seems that during its initial phase, Facebook did not have an option on common years to remind users of a friend's birthday that fell on 29th February.
As a matter of fact, many websites do not provide 29th February as an option for the birth date. 
How strange would it be to face such a problem in a matter as simple as the birth date?!
Setting aside the application forms and online registrations, how does a person born on 29th February decide upon a day to celebrate his/her birthday during the common years?!
There are actually 2 choices - 28th February and 1st March. It is said that people born before 12 PM on the leap day choose 28th February whereas the people born in the latter half of the day choose the 1st of March.

But having said all these, is life so difficult for a leap-day baby?!

Imagine you are in a room full of strangers. You need to introduce yourself and put something forth to the crowd in an interesting manner and sorrily, you are an introvert. In such a situation, don't you think announcing to the room that you are a leap-day baby would suffice?! 
After all, you would be someone who shares his/her birthday with only about 1/1461 of the population.
Similarly, imagine that you are in college as you celebrate your birthday today. By your next (actual) birthday, in 2020, there is a high possibility that you might have found yourself a partner to accompany you through life. By the birthday after that, in 2024, there is again a high possibility that you would have played your part in bringing out a beautiful baby into this world. Thus, with the passage of every birthday, it would seem like literally a new chapter is made to begin.
How many of us can claim of something so marvelous?!

I would like to end the piece with a line from an article by a writer born on 29th February,
My mom always offered me the same consolation, telling me that I'd thank her one day - on the morning when I can truthfully tell the world I'm only 10 instead of 40.
What an amazing gift! 
How many of us get to lead a mature life at an immature age?!