A slice from my journal....

August 25, 2009
1158 hrs

A guy came up to my cubicle at office and asked for ‘Kavita Madam’ (the loud-mouth) and I actually directed him to her! I was a novice here and hardly knew anybody by name, and yet I pulled off this one. It just reminded me of how people always ask me for directions at stations. I was traveling to Andheri on Sunday night and was accosted by a man who wanted to get to ‘saanthakarooz’. Just as I was done with him another guy came up to me – his savior who would tell him which side of the train, Khar road platform would be on. I invariably gave him the wrong answer. Then a third asked me if he was on the right platform for the Bandra train and I safely nodded. Even on the night after dinner at China gate, I wasn’t spared. It was 12:30am and the station was pretty deserted. Yet, a guy came up to me in search of the train to Churchgate! Today’s travel from Versova to office was so fucked up. It was drizzling steadily when I walked out and I wanted to get into an auto at the earliest. But, I couldn’t get one even after a 15min wait on the main road and that’s when I took the fatal decision of travelling by Bus-249 to Andheri (w) station. It was quite reasonable until I got off at the station. I got on to the overhead rail bridge connecting the west and east, and suddenly found out to my horror that it wasn’t meant to be a public passageway (An I used to think only Kurla had that fucked up rule). I was stopped by a ticket collector who asked me for my ticket-
“This is a railway bridge. Where is your ticket? Or do you at least have a platform ticket?”
I was like “Oh Oh”.
I put on my best show of an innocent guy trying to get to the other side. In fact, I was so optimistic that I thought he would let me off, if I explained things clearly. But, I guess he has seen hordes of such cases and remained unmoved.

He said “give 260 rupees. You should’ve seen the notice. This is the railway bridge not the public passageway”.

I profusely apologized and told him I wouldn’t repeat it again (like a kid!). He seemed to pause for a moment, and I thought I had him there. But, he handed me over to his superior and told me to try my reasoning with him. I almost gave up at that point, and was like “ok, take the damn money you morons; this is like the last reason I want to get held up for”. His boss, a burly guy with a no-nonsense attitude barked at me-“You given 260. You first given 260” and motioned me to pay-up. He was in no mood to listen to some lame story of mine. I reached into my wallet and pulled out 300 bucks. He took the money and was about to hand out the change when I asked him the way to get to the public passageway. He shrugged his shoulders and said “you ask that person”, pointing to his sub-ordinate. That was it. I flew into a frenzied rage and literally yelled at him and at the same time my voice choked and tears welled up in my eyes.
“I’ve given you the money. I’ve paid the fine. Now, all I’m asking you for is directions to get to the public bridge. And you tell me ‘ask that guy’. I’m only asking out for help. How can you be so heartless? Aren’t you supposed to guide people like me who are lost in a new city?”
He was gaping at me open-mouthed and stunned. He stuck out the 300 bucks at me and said “300 no need. You go buy platform ticket for Rs.3” and patted me on the back. I too was stunned to say the least. But, it wasn’t really the end yet. The queue for tickets for a hopeless serpentine one and I set off towards the public passageway. En route, I stepped into sewage water and muddied my shoes. I couldn’t avoid this despite taking a circuitous route through the parking lot behind the station. I hate it when my socks get soggy and I can’t get out of them till evening. I was reminded of those painful days at Mukand Steel. And it was at that moment, when I was coming out of the crossing into Andheri (e), braving the steady drizzle and dodging muddy splashes from vehicles zipping by, that I swore to myself. I hate this fucking city. And even more strangely I was reminded of Chennai and I felt homesick after a really long time. It felt like my first couple of weeks in Bombay- “fuck this shit. Fuck Bombay. Fuck TISS” .Hmmm. When I look back in wonder, a faint smile comes across my face. But, the thing is, it is not funny!

One of the toughest things to accomplish in Bombay is to get on an Auto from Andheri (e) station during peak hours. If you think otherwise, do let me know how you do it (drop me a mail!). Ok, this is how it basically plays out. There is a steady stream of autos ferrying passengers to the station. Now, there are twice as many people who are waiting on the roads to get onto one of those autos. So much before the auto stops or the passenger alights, you need to chase the auto, negotiate with the driver to take you to your destination and most importantly out-smart at least 3 other passengers who are doing the same thing- chasing the same auto, flagging it down and barking off orders to take them to a different destination. The most pissing off thing is, when you finally manage to do all of the above, the auto guy refuses point blank.

I’m like “Chakala?”
He’s like “Are you out of your mind?” The polite ones tell me “Sorry sir, too much traffic”
But, this is how the majority react.

I’m like “Chakala?”
He’s like “Vrooommmmm…..” spewing petrol fumes on my face. He doesn’t even look in my direction. It is like I’ve uttered the unmentionable. What’s wrong with Chakala anyways, huh?

LIQUOR RUINS COUNTRY, FAMILY, AND LIFE (and the whole of the next day!)

Kudi Naatukkum, Veetukkum, Uyirikkum Kedu!

That was the message embossed on a metal plate outside the Leather Bar, welcoming patrons into the supposedly happening hangout at ‘The Park’ Hotel in Chennai. As I walked in on a Saturday night way past the legal closing time of 11pm, taking in the pumping trance beats played by the DJ, my mind was faintly asking, “Now why do people drink?" I was afraid that the old dissonance was coming back again.

Being a teetotaler, I have always faced tremendous peer pressure to conform, to pick up that bottle of beer (It’s just beer; now don’t act like a sissy!). Why are we fixated with the idea of losing control or is it just about having a fun time (And a little groping*) ? Is the idea of escapism inherently built into the social structure? Is it related to the idea of ‘freedom’? The powers that control society, those which provide for norms and values – also provide the means of escapism. But why is there such a stigma associated with alcohol. Maybe, people aren’t comfortable with ideas of sexual promiscuity in their normal behavior states or any state for that matter. Alcohol helps reduce the dissonance that comes with the desires of the libido.

People have often quizzed me, “you don’t drink? So what DO you do to have fun….you know like go out and stuff?” Truth be told, I have no answer to that question. You can probably take me for a little guy who refused to ‘grow up’. I’ve just been doing the same stuff that I do to enjoy, since I was a kid- watching movies, go out for dinner , have a fun outing, play outdoor sports, sing, dance and play the fool. But, along with the teetotaler tag come the experiences of being an alienated soul. Suddenly, all the childhood friends you knew are not the same anymore. All they want to do is drink up and create a boisterous scene. The culturally disapproved rites of passage are here to stay.

But, is it really the rebel yell? Isn’t it ever so common? Isn’t it conformance to the conventional identity of a “youth”- (Flaunt your guts and flout the rules). Are youth being deviant during binge alcohol sessions? I feel it is more the opposite. It takes a teetotaler to be a non-conformist, to stay un-cool, to resist social pressure to hit the bottle. And yes, it takes a teetotaler to be the real Rebel.