On my way back from college, a thought rattled me. Was I being correct when I asked my students to be pokerfaced? Pre-graduate students and life to them is to chatter out all that is in their heart. Having nick named them “aunties”, continuous quacking is something I am getting accustomed to. Surprisingly though, within seconds they change their color! Tears and laughter fill in the classroom. Youthfulness relived.
Hills everywhere put on the same look: fog followed by sunshine. That’s a thing you grow up with. If of course, you grew up in hills.
Amid the roar of the vegetable vendors, indecent cry of the horns, meandering thoughts seem to waver away. The thought, that all that you say is being marked and getting imprinted in someone’s used diary, the teacher in me shudders with fear. Hurting someone cannot be just a jest. Most practice. Scary!! Isn’t it? But then one needs to get used to it, when in a city.
Frames get larger with experiences as we grow old. In the process we do get hurt, limp and begin to walk. That’s what we do. To our young ones, how does it suit when we are approached with queries we shoo them, saying poor you, know nothing! Many have done so.
Angularity is the prerogative of success.
Gujarat, through my bespectacled eyes is an overgrown village draped in a bollywoodic nine yards. It proudly exhibits its libertine face in malls, plazas and high-rises. Make way for yourself in the crowd and your drapings would be touched, the price would be asked. Your salary interests everyone! And mind you these are NOT personal questions here. Did we hear somebody scream privacy? Which bird is that??? So welcome yourself to the Global Indian village.
Greeting people is again one of its kinds. Utter your gods name, you are done! The lips hardly part otherwise. Access denied. The smile vanishes ones you say or do otherwise.
Question faith and you are on your way to be the next Christ at least halfway to the Cross. Thank God nails are expensive. Well, everyone is happy to swim about in this shallow pool. Everyone is invited. Vasudhaiba Kutumbakam.. here every story ends in khadu peedu ane maja kidu (ate drank and made merry).
Look around in the most crowded corner in any road here. There has to be a food-court. Look at the man attracting all the attention, he must be a share dealer.
Food, share market, green notes…these knock out the natives.
From Harshad Mehta to Ashok Jadeja. The journey never ends. Meet the Visa Consultants. The most worshipped deities, fuelling prayers far fervent than Jadeja could ever do. English speaking coaching centers beget them. After all, speaking English lets you to be powerful. Dinosaurs Sanskrit is fossilized only to be flaunted ones in a while like a Paleolithic war tool. After all, none of the ancient languages are spoken in Pizza Hut or Café Coffee Day (CCD).
When Ahmedabad came calling, hopes to venture out with my dream seemed fulfilling. First step to a classroom, I had to rest myself! Graduates, under graduates were mouth-shut. They had no idea about their country but aspired to take off to overseas countries! Peacock becomes the favorite animal! Thank God, buffalos haven’t flown as of now. Not as yet…
I knew I was in for more surprises than I had ever assumed. Subtracting my personal growth, I had to just encircle the pay day, collect my cheque and dissolve into the crowd-polluted city street.
Running against the tide continues…
Friends. Family. Call out. Facing same question day in and day out-when would we be back?
Fearing to pass on the dilemma and not so good experience of fazing off in a shell, silence breeds in the shelter of my body, the soul encaged.
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p.b
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