Sunday, May 23, 2010
But then I remembered with a heavy heart how much I loved my car. It still pains me to think about her and I still feel awfully guilty that I sold her off. I often wonder how she is doing…whether her new owner is treating her well or not. Whenever I go to Delhi, one part of mind keeps a watch on the road hoping to catch a glimpse of her, to know that she’s still there. The other part does not want to see her again…..what if she’s in a bad condition, what if she is not being treated well, a rough hand steering her around and driving over bumpers and potholes. I will never be able to forgive myself then. It would pain me too much.
She was just as temperamental as I was and left me exasperated most of the time with her demands of attention. But I loved her enough to fulfill all her demands and on time. She was simple, without any frills and looked younger than her age and we both shared so many special moments, bad and good together. Whether it was pouring rain and thunderstorm, tyre-deep water, blinding fog, scorching sun, balmy afternoons, or a blue sky with woolly cotton clouds. Whether I was happy, sad, melancholy, angry or just plain bored….she could sense my mood and play along. We would listen to music together driving slowly or just look at the scarlet sunset while I cried my heart out over some long lost memories. I could take my frustrations out after work and she would listen. She never left me stranded in dangerous places neither did I ever leave her unguarded or with strange people.
The last day, I walked with her new owner from the bank to the place where she was parked. Throughout that time, I explained to him all that I used to do for her and what she required. When I finally handed over my keys to the new owner without meeting his eyes, he said “My god….you are really attached to your car.” That did it. I turned away without even glancing back at my car. It was all I could do to stop myself from bawling uncontrollably right there in the middle of CP.
So, it’s not just about the ‘man’ and his machine. There is something indefinably special about the love we have for our machines. Wish we could say the same for all our other relations.
Wednesday, May 05, 2010
It all started off with an argument with A about the motormen going on strike and leaving people stranded. She was livid at the way they just stopped the trains mid track and people had to spend the night on the platform. I, for once sided with the motormen. In a country where mere notice or petitions does not work, what else can you do to make your needs felt? I don’t believe we are a poor nation at all. It’s flush with money as all of us have seen during the IPL fiasco. Plus the fact that (as a colleague once told me), if you put all the monies collected by our politicians since independence in Swiss banks, the country’s debt can be paid 13 times over!
But after I got angry and put the phone down on her, my head started to spin….with thoughts which got morbid by the minute. Exactly where are we heading? Me, others, the society, country as a whole and even Earth? How did we land up in such a terrible mess?
Each of us is living vicariously, for the moment and only for ourselves. Collecting and hoarding mindlessly. There might be 210 friends on your facebook account but how many friends are there with whom you can just sit and not talk at all, or on whose shoulder you can lay your head and cry your heart out without feeling stupid or judged later.
Long time ago, maybe 7-8 years back, a colleague was doing a pranic healing course. She could read auras (yes, I believe in all that) and sense the strength of each chakra in a person. For fun we experimented with other colleagues. Almost everybody’s heart chakra was tiny showing how little we felt through our hearts, how closed we were. At that point, it was fun to see this and we all laughed it off. But now I believe it’s true for everybody including me. We have no heart left.
Maybe we have crossed the point from where we could have righted things and now it’s a steady downhill. Maybe only a big calamity can sweep the plate clean so that a fresh good beginning can take place.
Maybe Mumbai’s chaos is getting to me, maybe I need a break and go to the mountains.