Home Coming:

I have become a monster. Well, my sister, mother and a few close friends will tell you that I was always one. But I now have become the worst type…a cynical, cribbing and nagging type. I can only see the bad part of things. For example,

It’s a good thing that’s there’s a sabzi mandi right outside my building but all that I see especially in the mornings is how bhajiwallahs spit and then lay down the vegetables just next to it. Needless to say, I don’t buy vegetables from there. I walk to another market some 10 minutes away and buy vegetables laid out in carts which are several inches above the ground.

It’s so nice to see the ladies compartment full at 10 in the night. In fact, at certain stations there’s still a mad rush to get in and get a seat. I don’t take the first class at that hour, so a couple of days ago I got in the general ladies compartment while traveling back from Thane. As I hurried to an empty seat, another woman came and sat next to me (kindly adjust variety). I almost choked to death. Both the women sitting on both my sides were stinking of dried sweat. With so much of money flowing in this city, I wonder why people can’t buy even a cheap Rs.50 deo.

Last week, I hailed a taxi. There was a small puddle where it stopped and the driver told me “aage karta hoon, wahan kachra hain”. Considerate! At the next ‘singal’ (as they say), I saw that the driver who was chewing gutkha probably, open his side of the door and spit out. Then he proceeded to gargle some 3-4 times and spit the content out….as if the road was his own private toilet. You might think people who are a bit educated will not do any of the above. But people in my office do similar stuff in the cafeteria area. They will eat and not clean the table, they will wash their plates in the sink and leave it dirty. I keep wondering will they do the same at home.

Ok enough now. It’s a good thing I didn’t get married. I am such a serial nagger.
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It was a short mad dash to Delhi and then to Uttranchal…on work. I can’t forgive my boss for calling me back for an important meeting, cutting my visit by almost a week. But those few days in the vicinity of the mountains and the perfect spring weather of Delhi was such a welcome respite. It was clear, bright and cold with a perfect view of the snow-covered Nanda Devi. For those few days, I was totally free. I was home.

To a Brother:

I have often wondered
If you are there somewhere
If we will ever cross paths
In this life

I have often wondered
That if we do
Will you still be a brother to me
Or just another general acquaintance
Who we meet and forget

I have often wondered
If you know that I remember you
When I am happy
When I am melancholic
And when I am just me

But something tells me
That you know
You have always known